The Shadows of the Past
by The Avid Musician
Summary: Sirith had friends and a life traveling with Gandalf. One message changed all of that, forcing her to rediscover the past she had forgotten long ago. Morgoth/OC/Glorfindel
1. Prologue

_Sorry this is so short!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

**Prologue**

"Please remember me; for though I live forever, you are all I see."

"But why must you go, Farotur? Stay here, with me," an elf-maiden pleaded with him.

"I cannot, but I promise you I will return. Then, we will be together forever," the man said, truth ringing in every word.

That second he was there. The next, she stood alone in the darkness of the forest.


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: not mine._

**Chapter One**

A group of elves rode on horseback through the woods. Not far ahead of them was an elegant stone bridge to an elven city, Imladris, on the other side. Though the path wound greatly, they could not have been more than a quarter of a mile from the bridge.

Roughly in the middle of the procession was a shining, white figure: an elf-maid of beauty rivaling Arwen Undomiel. Her voice far surpassed any among the elves in thousands of years. She was most certainly beyond compare in this the Third Age of Middle Earth.

Beside her rode a tall figure clothed in grey. The hat atop his head was made of blue-grey felt. It had a wide brim to protect its owner's eyes from the elements. His beard was long and his eyebrows were bushy, partially obscuring the bright blue eyes below them. These features were all a part of a weathered, kindly face.

"Are you sure about this, Olórin?" the elf-maid asked, her eyes exuding worry.

"My dear, I am always sure. And remember: while I am here, I am not Olorin. I am Mithrandir," the figure in grey said gently to her.

"But why?" the elf-maid asked. She did not know why this misnomer was necessary.

"These people do not know me by that name. They would only be confused by it. Now, we are going straight to Elrond as soon as we arrive. Also, make sure you talk to Glorfindel. After that, you should meet Erestor," the Istari said.

"Why do you want me to meet Erestor?" the elf-maid asked, tilting her head and raising one eyebrow. She had learned that mannerism from Glorfindel.

"He is Elrond's advisor, and he will be a trustworthy friend and ally," Mithrandir said confidently.

"At least I already know Glorfindel!" the elf-maid said, smiling brightly.

"Stick to those three. They will be good friends in the times to come. Please promise me you will, Sirith," Mithrandir said, turning to look earnestly into her eyes.

"Of course I will, Olorin," she said, smiling innocently. She trusted the Istari completely.

"Sirith!" a shout came from the bridge. They both turned to see a golden-haired elf riding toward them on a shining, white horse.

"Glorfindel!" she called, jumping off her horse and running toward him. The elf leapt off his horse and embraced her warmly, twirling her around in the air.

"_Imo mellon, uar le, im na er ar vanwa_," (My friend, I was lonely without you) he said, pulling her close in a warm hug.

"_Na le si tir_?" (Will you be back soon?) Sirith asked, looking at him with a hopeful smile.

"_Netta_," (Yes) he said as he buried his face in her soft, golden hair.

"_Maan_," (Good,) she said, releasing him to smile up at him.

"_Im keluva si, Sirith. Im henuva le tir_," (I need to go, Sirith. I will see you soon,) Glorfindel said, hugging her one more time before walking back to Asfaloth, his beautiful horse.

"_Pata_!" (Wait!) she said, grasping his arm just before he mounted. He turned quickly, and the elf-maid kissed him quickly on the cheek.

The elves looked into each others eyes for a second before turning back to their respective horses and mounting. As Glorfindel rode past her, she put her hand out and touched his hand as he rode past, like she always did when he left.

Once the elf-maid had remounted, the elven, and Olorin, group continued to the bridge and the beautiful city beyond.

This party of newcomers elicited much attention on the part of the inhabitants of the city they now entered. Yet, their eyes wee most often drawn to the golden-haired vision in white that rode in the middle of the column, the most protected area.

She, Sirith, was one of the most beautiful elf-maids of all time. Unlike Arwen, who only slightly surpassed Sirith in beauty, she was not attached to any one elf or man in a romantic way. She was a loose lady, a loose princess. Of course, she had her many friends, like Arwen and Glorfindel. However, she had no particular interest in anyone. The fact that she was protected by Mithrandir and Elrond helped deter many people from pursuing her.

Beside her rode an Istari wizard, as they were then called. His name was Mithrandir to the elves, or Gandalf to men and Halflings. But he was Olorin to the Ainur and Sirith only. And on his finger, as she well knew, was the elven ring Narya.

Those elves that had watched had seen Glorfindel ride out to meet them, and, most specifically, Sirith. It was obvious by the way they embraced and talked that they were good friends, which some took even farther to mean that they were courting. Such rumors were baseless, at least on Sirith's part.

Despite the lack of evidence in their rumours, the elves thought that Glorfindel was wrong to bestow his heart on such a low-born elf as she. They were completely wrong.

By birth, Sirith was just as noble, in a way more so, than Glorfindel. Her mother was Finduilas, whose father was Orodreth son of Finarfin. Finarfin's brother was Fingolfin, most noble High King of the Noldor in all of history. She was royalty and Elrond was her Uncle, indirectly but somewhat applicable.

Glorfindel was an extremely powerful and influential Elf Lord, but he was not royalty. However, Sirith's parentage was a closely guarded secret kept by a select few: Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn, Cirdan, and Mithrandir.

As these visitors poured into the elegant city, Sirith's beauty caught the eye of a bridge guard, one who was not all that he seemed. His name was Telperin.

oooooooooooooooo

Sirith walked into her room after a long day of sword training. She tossed her elvish sword onto the bed and sat, taking several deep breaths. Only then did she notice a folded piece of paper on the table.

She rose and picked up the paper before sitting down again to read it.

It was from Telperin, and it was…poetry?

Thine eyes!

Thy emerald eyes!

Thy skin!

It glows like the moon!

Thy hair!

Black as night!  
Thy lips!

Red as blood!

_Eru! What is wrong with him?"Red as _blood_?"_

She crumpled it up and threw it into the fire. _There is nothing that can be done, so why worry?_

_ooooooooo  
_

"Sirith, are you done drawing, yet?" Glorfindel called from thirty yards away.

She looked up at the sound of his voice and said, "Almost. Just let me finish this last touch of the cliff."

"What are you drawing this time?" he asked as he got within ten feet of her.

"The valley from that waterfall to that cliff face," she said, pointing out the boundaries of her drawing quickly.

"Alright. Enough of your solitude. Come sit with me," he said, pulling her up by her arms.

"Have you been settling in well?" Glorfindel asked her as they walked back to the library.

"I feel surprisingly comfortable here already," Sirith said, smiling.

"I am glad to hear it. You should come train with me tomorrow. I don't want you to get out of practice," he said, laying his hand over hers.

"I would not want to intrude on your training," she said.

"Nonsense! It would be good for the other warriors to have someone else to duel against, especially with how good you are with the sword," he said, trying to convince her.

"Very well," she said, smiling again.

"Great! I was hoping you'd agree," Glorfindel said. His face seemed ecstatic.

In this way, their friendship had deepened into a sort of love, though it was not the same type of love that they were so often accused of harbouring. Sirith believed that this was love was like that between siblings, though they were not actually blood relatives. Glorfindel, howeve,r had something else in mind.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir!" Sirith called, running toward him as he strode toward the library.

"Sirith?" he said, surprised. He turned quickly to see her running toward him still. That sight made him stop completely and wait until she was there.

"Mithrandir!" she said happily, running straight into his arms.

"The warriors said that you are leaving soon," she said, worry showing on her face.

The Istari began to laugh merrily and said amidst this laughter, "Have no fear. I will not leave you here just yet!"

"Oh, good! I thought you were going to leave without even telling me!" she said. Her face betrayed her worry for such an event.

"Sirith, I promise you I will tell you before I leave," Gandalf said, smiling and hugging her again.

"Thank you, not just for this, but for everything. You are like a father to me," Sirith said, smiling radiantly.

Gandalf was shocked for a second, but he said in return, "And you are like a daughter to me."

ooooooooooo

"Gandalf, have you had the chance to see Glorfindel and Sirith when they are together?" Elrond asked, looking out an upper window.

"Only once," he said, glancing up at the half-elf.

"Come here. They're talking by the edge of Bruinen," Elrond said, smiling. He gestured out the window towards the edge of the water where two golden-haired elves sat in the grass.

Gandalf hurried over to observe the couple. They sat close together as they talked and laughed. It was obvious to both of them that these two were close. The question was, how close?

"It is good to see him smiling. He has not truly smiled in many years," Elrond observed.

"She is different with him. She treats him like a true friend," Gandalf said, smiling.

"Do you know how she thinks of you, Gandalf?" the half-elf asked.

"She…she asks me for advice, and she asks me to explain things…it's like she's my daughter," Gandalf said, struggling to explain their relationship.

Elrond began to smile and said, "Perhaps she has found both a father and a match, finally."

oooooooooooooo

First when Sirith hade entered the city, she brought her faithful horse to the stables. She took the bridle off and unbuckled the saddle. Quickly, she prepared herself for the great weight of the saddle before lifting it up and off of her horse.

As she struggled to carry the saddle over to the edge of the stall, a strong pair of hands took the saddle out of her hands and placed it with ease on the wooden half-wall of the stall.

She looked up to see whose hands they were, only to be pulled into a tight hug before she saw the face. However, these arms felt familiar and warm, and the long, black hair gave away their identity.

"I missed you, Sirith," Elrond said, tightening his arms around her.

"I missed you, too. It's been so long," she said, breaking away to smile at him.

"Oh! Come! You still need to meet Erestor!" Elrond said, taking her hand and pulling her out of the stables quickly. _Perhps I have finally found a friend for him._

"Slow down, Elrond!" she said, hurrying to keep up with him.

"It's only a little farther, Sirith!" Elrond said, smiling widely as he led her to the library. She laughed at this, sensing her friend's enthusiasm.

Sure enough, not ten seconds later, they ran into a two-level library. "Erestor! Come here! There's someone here you should meet!" Elrond called, still smiling and holding her hand.

A few seconds later, a dark-haired elf appeared on the upper level. He gracefully jogged down the steps and walked over to stand in front of the pair. "Yes, my lord Elrond?" the elf asked.

"This is Sirith. She's been my friend since we were in Lindon, and for as long as she is here, she is welcome in the library, or any other part of the house. I'd like for you to get to know her. Sirith, this is Erestor, my advisor and friend. He likes to have the library to himself," Elrond said eagerly, introducing the two.

"_Elen sila 'lumenn omentielvo_," Sirith said, smiling at Erestor. _He has been serious for far too long. I should change that._

_ Mae govannen, Sirith_," Erestor said in return, smiling slightly. _He's smiling! Finally! She's the key to his happiness!_

_ooooooooooo  
_

Once Sirith had met with Elrond and Erestor, she took her time walking to her customary room and changed from her white dress to a purple dress made specifically for her to wear to and from bathing. Once she was changed, Sirith skipped happily down to the river Bruinen.

After bathing for awhile, Sirith heard voices approaching the banks. She quickly ducked underwater and swam into the reeds on the other side of the river.

Not two seconds later, Elladan and Elrohir, twin sons of Elrond, came walking down the path to the river. They came to the waters edge and tested the temperature before disrobing and jumping in.

As they did that, Sirith blushed and turned away. She dipped under and swam away as silently as she could. She went back to where her clothes were around the bend of the river, hearing the twins fooling around in the water.

Quickly, Sirith pulled her dress back on and walked back to the path. As she walked back, she heard a call, "Sirith!"

She turned and saw none other than Elladan and Elrohir, only half-clothed. She blushed and turned her head.

The twins took one look at each other, both getting the same idea. They silently got out of the water and snuck towards Sirith. They simultaneously grabbed her arms and pulled her up off the ground. They carried her over to the water and threw her in, still in her clothes.

She shrieked when she landed in the cold water. She brought her head up to the surface and quickly grabbed the twins' arms, pulling them in behind her.

The three of them began to laugh altogether. They all climbed out and shook the water off. Elladan and Elrohir quickly grabbed their shirts and used them to dry off a little.

"Come on, you need some dry clothes," Elladan said, taking Sirith's hand in his own.

"So do you," she said, sending them all into a fit of laughter.

"Your room or ours?" Elrohir asked, taking her other hand.

"Mine first. They're closer," Sirith said, shaking her head at their antics.

The threesome walked up the path and back to the city. However, they had to walk by the library to get back to Sirith's quarters. As they did, Elrond walked out of the library.

When he saw them sopping wet, hand-in-hand, and walking down the corridor, he burst out laughing. When he could speak again, he asked, "Who pushed whom?"

"They _carried_ me," Sirith said, beginning to laugh. This bit of information sent Elrond into another fit of laughter.

"And I suppose you pulled them in after," Elrond observed, still laughing.

Sirith smiled wickedly and nodded.

"What would I do without you three," Elrond said happily, smiling.

ooooooooooo

Glorfindel's mission was to find Aragorn and the hobbits accompanying him and escort them to Imladris. He had found them somewhat swiftly and now led them to Imladris with all speed.

As Glorfindel walked at the head of the group, he kept touching his cheek where Sirith had kissed him. He could still feel her soft, moist lips against hs skin. It tingled pleasantly.

Aragorn noticed this and asked the elf, "_Glorfindel, hi na engwana_?" (Glorfindel, does it hurt?)

"No. I have a…friend that just arrived," the golden-haired elf said, turning to look at Aragorn for only a second. He was too embarrassed by his own feelings to maintain eye contact.

"_Ar?" _(And?) Aragorn asked, probing further.

"_I-I-Im…Im mel h__í__ril_," (I-I-I…I love her) Glorfindel admitted.

Aragorn looked at the Elf Lord, astonished that he had only now found an elf-maid he truly loved. The Dunedain asked, "_Man_?" (Who?)

"_Sirith Aralin. Le golodh i hiril_?"(Sirith Aralin. Have you met her?)

"_Letta, an im lhawa hirilo. __Na hiril ve?"_ (No, but I have heard of her. What is she like?) Aragorn asked.

They heard Pippin, one of the hobbits interrupt just then saying, "What are you two talking about?"

"I hope it's food," Merry, another of the hobbits, interjected.

"They speak of a lady, an elf maid and friend of Glorfindel's," Frodo, the most important of the four hobbits, said. He surprised all of them by even speaking. He was the ring-bearer, and he had been stabbed by a Morgul blade. For that reason, they did not think him strong enough to speak.

Glorfindel turned bright red before forcing out a laugh to hide it. He was embarrassed that Frodo had heard, and, worse still, understood.

"_Hiril na lissi, ar i mir, ar oniel, ar vana, ar alata, ar..."_ (She is sweet, and innocent, and kind, and beautiful, and happy, and…) Glorfindel said in a whisper before sighing and closing his eyes.

"What are they saying?" they heard Pippin whisper to Frodo.

"Nothing of consequence to you, Master Took," Glorfindel said, warning them against any intrusion into the matter.

"_Nai le lasto lo oree,"_ (May it be you listen to your heart, and introduce me to her) Aragorn whispered back.

oooooooooo

Once Sirith had returned to her room, she took her time to change from her sopping dress to breeches and a tunic. She ate and found some drawing supplies in the library after changing.

Once she had that accomplished, she went to the River Bruinen. She soon found Glorfindel sitting in his usual place on the grass by the riverbank.

"Glorfindel!" she called, running toward him. She had thought that he would not return for another day at the very least.

"_Sirith! __Hi na maan hena le_!" (Sirith! It's great to see you!)" he called, standing up to embrace her in joy. He twirled her around in the air a couple times before setting her back down and pulling her to the ground with him. Both of them smiled and laughed the whole time like the old friends they were.

"_Hi na annen yen im dagor uar le. __Uva le…?"_ (It's been a long time since I've sparred with anyone. Would you…?)" she did not need to finish the sentence.

"I'd love to," Glorfindel said, smiling kindly.

She smiled excitedly and ran off to the practice fields. Glorfindel ran after her, eager to see if she had improved her already tremendous skill with a blade.

ooooooooo

Two elvish blades glinted in the sun. The combatants carefully watched each other, waiting for one to move.

Suddenly, one blade whistled through the air, darting toward their opponent. The other blade whirled into action, blocking and attacking with ferocity.

The blades darted back and forth in a deadly dance. Neither combatant showing weakness to the other, until a blade slipped from weariness.

The other blade darted into the weak spot, quickly disarming the opponent. Within seconds, the elf was disarmed and on the ground, a sword at their neck.

"Alright, Sirith. You win," Glorfindel said, smiling tiredly and holding his hands up in defeat.

Sirith smiled and threw her sword away. The elf lord took advantage of that. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down on top of him just before he rolled on top of her, pinning her underneath him.

"Nice try, Glorfindel. I still beat you. You've got that bruise on your arm to prove it," Sirith said, poking the bruise on his upper arm.

"Alright, alright, Sirith," he said, rolling off of her to lie beside her.

They laid there for several minutes before Sirith sighed and said, "I should be getting back soon."

Glorfindel got up slowly and offered her his hand, saying, "Coming?"

As they returned to the city, they met Elrond.

Elrond noticed when Glorfindel winced as Sirith put a hand on her arm. He asked, "_Engwana, na le?" _(Injured, are we?)

"_Sirith nant maan_," (She has improved,) Glorfindel said, smiling slightly.

"_Sirith na uengwana_," (She is no longer the one with the bruises,) Elrond observed, laughing heartily.

"_Neta_," (Indeed,) Glorfindel said, smiling widely and laughing now as well. He hugged Sirith close with his not bruised arm. She laughed and hugged him close.

_What a perfect match they are,_ Elrond thought, waiting patiently for their friendship to turn into something more.

ooooooooo

The next day, Sirith sat on the edge of the bridge, waiting for Glorfindel since the early morning. As she waited, she became entranced by the waterfall in front of her and far below. She began to sketch it. She was so enthralled by the beauty that she did not notice the golden-haired elf riding towards the bridge on a white horse.

Glorfindel, however, did notice her. He rode up behind her silently and dismounted to wrap his arms around her from behind. Sirith immediately recognized that it was him and leaned into his embrace, closing her eyes happily. He pressed his face into her hair before gently picking her up and turning around so that she could embrace him as well.

After awhile, he released her and said, "_Im tiruva le i lumenn' omentielvo nev Bruinen, ve_ _oiale_." (I'll meet you by the banks of the Bruinen, as usual.)

The two elves smiled at each other while Glorfindel gently placed a hand on her cheek. They stayed motionless for several seconds before the Elf Lord turned back to his horse, Asfaloth.

Sirith gathered up her drawing supplies and deposited them in her room before walking out to a rather secluded area right at the river's banks.

From there, she could not hear the sounds of a skirmish at the bridge that she had left not five minutes ago. However, while Glorfindel was meeting with Elrond to report about his mission, they both heard the clash of steel and the twang of bowstrings.

They both paled and Glorfindel whispered, "Sirith!"

Elrond looked into the Elf Lord's eyes for a second before saying, "Go!"

Immediately Glorfindel took off at a dead run to the stables. He jumped onto his horse and urged Asfaloth to run to the river where the elf-maid awaited him.

Sirith heard him coming and turned to smile at him. That same smile faded when she saw the grim set of his brow and jaw. It boded ill. "Ride with me!" Glorfindel said, holding a hand down for Sirith to take. She took it without hesitation and he pulled her up behind him.

As soon as she was mounted, he urged Asfaloth off into the forest. They rode for more than ten minutes before stopping.

After she jumped down, Sirith asked Glorfindel, "What happened?" She placed a hand on his arm to convey her worry.

"There is an attack underway. Orcs have attacked the main bridge. I had to get you away from the fighting," he said, calming down now under Sirith's gentle touch.

They stayed there for more than an hour talking quietly in atmosphere of slight tension and worry. Finally, they heard a distinctly elven voice calling, "My Lord Glorfindel! It is safe!"

Quickly, the two golden-haired elves rode back and went straight to Elrond. The half-elf looked relieved that they were both unharmed. It showed in his face and his bearing, though he was not as open about it.

"The orcs are defeated! We have only minor injuries, no deaths!" he said, obviously relieved.

Sirith breathed a sigh of relief as Glorfindel said, "That is good."

Elrond smiled slightly and said to Sirith, "If they attack again, find Glorfindel immediately. He will take you to safety."

As he said that, Glorfindel's eyes flicked to Master Elrond, wondering why he wanted her in particular protected. Elrond ignored that and said, "You may both go now."

After the two elves left, holding hands and walking in unison, Elrond thought while turning to a window. _She _CAN NOT_ be killed or taken! At least Glorfindel can take care of her. Thank the Valar she wasn't at the bridge anymore!_

After that, the orcs led many direct attacks on the city. They had never been successful, but Sirith still learned to stay away from the main bridge. Glorfindel wanted her to remain safe during these attacks and was happy to take her away from there, where she might be harmed…or killed.


	3. Chapter 2

_Sorry! This chapter is rather short!_

Chapter Two

Sirith sat on an exquisitely carved bridge over the Bruinen in a fair valley near the Misty Mountains. This valley was Imladris, which men called Rivendell.

Her hair was long and as golden as the sun. Her skin was as pale as the cold light of the full moon, except on her cheeks. There it was shaded lightly pink, and on her lips it was rosy red in color. Her eyes were deep green like two beryls, or elf-stones. Her blue gown hung on her thin frame, clinging to her curves beautifully.

This lovely dell held her favorite places for drawing. Her drawings were artistic, skillful, and pulchritudinous. Those drawings reflected the natural beauty of the elven city and adjacent cataracts, around the periphery of the landscape. The steep slopes were covered with green, sunlit foliage in the afternoon light.

She wanted to remember this dell when she went back to her homeland of Lothlorien. It was beautiful in its own way, and she certainly missed its forest. But Imladris had the beauty of running water all around. This was a beauty she rarely got to see, unless it was at her own _talan_ beside the falls of Nimrodel. In the forest of the Golden Wood, they had trees in abundance, but here trees were speckled around on the slopes of the valley in perfect balance with the waterfalls, river Bruinen, and graceful, arching walls of the elven city.

As the artist looked up for a second time, she felt a warm finger touch her shoulder. She spun around quickly to find Olorin holding a tray with some food on it. Only then did she realize that she hadn't eaten since yesterday. "_Im golodh le na lost,"_ (I thought you would be hungry) he told her.

"_Hannon le_."(Thank you) With that she took the tray from him and set it down next to her. Olorin sat next to her while she started with a piece of fruit from the tray. There were two different vegetables, one other fruit, a piece of bread, and a wooden glass filled with _miruvor_, an elven drink that sustained and uplifted the spirit as well we the body. Olorin knew well that she only ate meat on special occasions, or when there was little else to eat.

Mithrandir, now her foster father, sat in silence next to her for some time. When she had finished, Mithrandir said, "_Mereth na odo re sio. __Arwen uva na si. Odo ar odo reo si, Legolas uva kel. __Met uva kel_." (There will be a feast in one week. Arwen will be there. About two weeks after that, your friend, Legolas, will be arriving with an important message. We may be leaving before he arrives, though.)

The thing that he did not say was that she was going to sing at that feast, and she knew it. Firstly, Elrond had asked her, in person, to sing at that feast. Secondly, she had an aesthetically pleasing, soprano voice. It was one of the best that had ever been heard among the elves. Obviously, there was something very important about this feast in particular.

"_Im golodh_." She was glad for this news because she was starting to wonder about how much longer she would have to draw this valley. She had only finished the front section and had yet to work on the overview drawing she was planning.

Mithrandir continued to recount certain interesting bits of news. Until he came to one piece in particular, she listened very little. Nothing overly important had happened in the last few hundred years.

When it did get interesting, he said, "_Er adan kel si, uanann. __Im lhawe er adan ve im kel si. Er adan queta beth, er adan norant kel ve i vilya. Elrond ar Glorfindel lhawe i beth. Er adan na aeg. __Yes nant ilye mor-esse a mor gollo. I roch yes norant nant mor_." (A rather odd messenger arrived just a few minutes ago. I saw the messenger arrive on my way. As soon as he'd delivered his message, he rode away like the wind. Elrond saw the message first. Not long after, they sent for Glorfindel. The strangest part was the messenger himself. He was dressed all in plain black clothes and wore a heavy black cloak bundled around himself.)

"_Nagolodhlye i rant beto mi beth?"_ (You don't know what the message was about, do you?)

"No," Olorin said confidently.

"_Im golodh,"_ said a voice from behind them. They both turned to see Glorfindel looking intently at them. "_Mithrandir, im pedo Siritho, ereb_." (I must speak with Sirith, alone.)

Mithrandir gestured, showing that t was fine. He rose and left his foster daughter with the Elf-Lord, taking the empty tray with him.

"_Hi bad_," (This way.) Glorfindel said with a gesture of his hand. Gracefully, they linked arms and walked to the main structure of Imladris.

After a few seconds of silence, she said, "_Na Elrond golodh imo beth_?" (Does Elrond know about my advice yet?)

"No._ Mi yeni Elrond golodh, lye nuva Lothlorienesse_." (By the time he does know you will already be back in Lothlorien.)

"_Maan_," (Good) she said as they approached the main complex of Imladris.

They passed under the ornately carved wood into the open hallway that led to the great library.

Once inside, he led her through multiple hallways to a multilevel library with thousands upon thousands of books lining every wall. This was where she had found drawing supplies.

Elrond was on the lowest level, one level down from them, reading a piece of paper. The paper was quite small. An envelope of the correct proportions was on a desk by the wall. The seal on the envelope was made from red wax and shaped like a skull. On the reverse side of the envelope was written her name, in plain Tengwar script.

Silently, the two elves walked down the staircase to the ground floor. As they approached Elrond, Glorfindel said, "_Sirith na sinome_."(Sirith is here.)

At that point, Elrond looked up at them. He reached out and handed the paper to her. Quickly, she read the note over.

_ Nai kelle Lothlorienello. Kel Isengardello. __Saruman na golodh hino Caras Galadon. Lye nuva tira an le. __Rin: mor na tula oesse i nor. Yesuva na gurthui kelello . Le asca. leuva na ar bragol._

When translated, the letter meant the following.

_ (You must come back to Lothlorien. Go by way of Isengard. Saruman has information for you. He will be expecting you. Remember: darkness is creeping back into the land. It will soon be too dangerous to travel. You must hurry, or you will be too late.)_

The note was not signed. She read it over once more to make sure she hadn't mistaken anything. Once she had finished, she asked, "_Man thiwo hi?"(_Who sent this?)

"_Met una golodh_," Glorfindel said. (We do not know.)

"_Nantgolodhlye_?" she asked persistently. (You did not ask?)

"_Met golodh i beth uva na thiw_," (We assumed the message would be signed.) Elrond answered punctually.

"_Na le golodh man gollodui?"_ she asked. (D you know of the seal?)

"_Er ve tehta nant beth an Morgoth. Hi unant enbeth. Im uva pedale ukel_." (A similar seal was used by the Dark Lord before his downfall in the First Age, but not since then. Under the circumstances, I would suggest that you not go.)

"_Im ukeluva."_ (I shall not go)

"_Maan,"_ (Good.) said Elrond. After he said that, he turned his attention to other things and she quietly returned to the bridge and continued sketching.

oooooooooo

An elf-maiden, Sirith, walked down the moonlit hall at midnight. The light of the moon illuminated the passage she traversed. Her silver-grey slippers did not make even a whisper of sound on the smooth, stone floor. Her red gown slid over the smooth floor with no noise. The corridor was open to the outside and revealed a tall, beautiful waterfall on one side. On the other side, there was a cliff face. This made it more like an extended awning.

She was going to talk to Olorin, whom she could hear not too far away in the distance talking to someone else whose voice she did not recognize.

Her thoughts turned to the feast in five days. At the feast, she would learn of her people's intentions regarding returning to their forested realm. If they returned too soon, she would not be able to see Legolas, which she sincerely hoped would not happen. There was also to be a Great Council after Legolas arrived. She did not know what it would be about, but it was definitely important.

Arwen was also attending the feast. She was her friend in Lorien, whom she had accompanied here. She personally wanted to see Legolas as well, but he would not arrive for some days yet. The young elf personally preferred the solitude back on the bridge, but she was very curious as to what Olorin would say.

The elf-maid also thought that Glorfindel would be at the feast, as well as many other Elf-Lords. He was, after all, the second most important elf in Imladris (after Elrond). She remembered telling him about a way to make the waters of the river Bruinen obey him. He had only to say:

_Nin o Cithaeglir lasto beth daer,_

_Rimmo nin Bruinen dan in Ulaer!_

_Nin o Cithaeglir lasto beth daer,_

_Rimmo nin Bruinen dan in Ulaer!_

She hoped that the incantation would be helpful for him, even in some small way.

As she reached the balcony, she saw two silhouettes against the light of the moon reflected from the surface of the water. She recognized one as Olorin and the other as a young elven warrior whom she knew as the figure that watched her when she drew during the day.

He had professed his love to her multiple times. She found is feeling for her somewhat disconcerting. He had already tried several times to win her hand. It was a very pointless effort because Olorin already knew that she disliked him. These facts combined to make her wary as she approached the figures.

As she slowly and quietly approached the two forms silhouetted on the surface of the water far below, the shape she recognized as Olorin turned his head. With that motion, the elven warrior was informed of her presence and turned as well. As soon as he saw her, he handed Olorin a small, folded note and left swiftly.

Olorin stood and approached her and said, "_Engolodh Telperin_." (Telperin asks again.) His tone suggested that he was not pleased with this new occurrence.

_"Telperin golodh im na vana, na uim_." (He is not interested in me as a person, but in my looks only.) She decided to tell Olorin about how she noticed him watching her.

_"Im na ethir Telperin golodh le, ar leo quare_." (I'm surprised he even knew you, much less wanted you hand.) Personally, he was concerned that he wanted her for other reasons, and that he would do almost anything to possess her.

"_Adar, im golodh. Telperin tir im teith i iant a tirimor."_ (Father, I know why. Telperin saw me drawing on the bridge and has watched me every day since.) "_Telperin nant queta hoth beth. Im unant edrant beth. Im kelant beth Telperinello_." (He has also written me several letters and poems. After I received the first one, I stopped opening them and just sent them back. He is persistent though.)

"_Im rant nant quenant gono, ar Elrond_!" (I could have told his captain, or Thranduil, or even Elrond. Surely they have some control over their own warriors!)

"_Edhil uva una. Edhil una ring ar kelmar Telperin."_ (They would be able to do nothing. His interest in me is not something they can control without banishing him.)

"_Im nai na. Le golodh le una im peduva_-" (I still may be able to do something. Are you sure you don't want me to speak to-)

"_Ai! Rin hi. Im nai. Huine na Telperinesse."(_No! Just keep your suggestion in mind until it _IS _needed. If it goes much farther I may need it. There is darkness in him.)

_"Im queta golodhle. Met uva kel neldeodo_." (I also meant to tell you, we will be staying for another three weeks, unless this progresses farther.)

"_Maan_." (Good.) _Then I will be able to speak to Legolas again._

"_Telperin onantim hi beth velye_," (He gave me this note for you.) he said, giving her the note with a guarded glance.

Quickly, she opened the note and read it.

_If only you were mine_

_For my arms long to hold you_

_My ears long to hear your voice_

_My lips wish for your touch_

_Could you ever love me?_

As soon as she finished reading the note, she crumpled it up in her hand, not wanting another reminder of her unwanted admirer. She threw it into the pond.

Watching her do this, Olorin glanced puzzledly at her, not comprehending why she had crumpled it so forcefully. "_Telperin quetant i lin_." (He sent a poem.) As he heard that, his face hardened as well. He did not look pleased.

"_Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo_," she said briskly. She quickly rose and left, walking away into the forest.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Sirith sat by a mirror in her room, unbraiding her hair for the feast. She had already changed into a leaf green gown for the occasion. The flowing, petal-like sleeves were attached to the top of the bodice. There were no shoulders on this gown. The corset-like bodice flowed into the long, flowing skirt.

Once her hair was loose, she studied her hair as she adjusted it, leaving two of her black strands falling down her front. The rest of her black tresses fell down her back like a waterfall.

As she did that, the door opened and Glorfindel walked in. In his hand, he held a delicate, red rose. He carefully closed the door behind him and walked over to stand beside her. "_Le na vana,"_(You look beautiful) he said, smiling.

"_Hannon le_," (Thank you) she said, smiling.

Sirith walked over to a small table and brought back a beautiful hair ornament. It was a half-circlet with a very ornate front encrusted with gems. The ends that formed a half-circle were made to slide into her hair and hold it in place. All of the metal was mithril and all of the gems set into it were beryls.

She carefully lifted the VERY precious hair ornament and slid it into her midnight hair. She felt a hand adjust her hair behind it and turned to see Glorfindel drop his hand back to his side.

"Why so wistful?" Glorfindel asked the younger elf, teasing her and at the same time being playful.

"It is nothing," she said, smiling and turning to sit down in a nearby chair.

Glorfindel slowly walked over to her, looking down at the rose he held thoughtfully. "Sirith, I have a confession to make."

"What is it, Glorfindel?" she asked, looking up into his eyes curiously.

His answering gaze said it all, but he still spoke the words, "I love you, and I wish to never be parted from you."

She did not stir a muscle. She just sat for a few seconds before saying, "_Im golodh_."(I know.)

"These past days have been torture for me. I have been with you so much, wondering if you felt the same about me. I would look at you and wonder, never knowing," he said, trying to explain himself.

"Glorfindel, I could sense this for a long time," she said, not taking her gaze from him.

"And now, would you do me the honor of accepting my hand, in marriage?" Glorfindel asked, sliding down to one knee.

Sirith took a deep breathe before saying, "Glorfindel…" She sighed and looked away from him. "You have been a wonderful companion."

"Does this mean you accept?" he asked, anticipation coloring his tone and face.

"It means that I will think about it," she said, her eyes softening as she looked straight into his blue eyes.

"I had hoped to announce it tonight," he said regretfully.

"You will just have to wait," she said, smiling and walking to the dining hall.

oooooo

Slowly, Sirith walked into the dining hall of Imladris. Normally, she did not attend events such as these. She hated crowds, but Elrond and Olorin had both asked her to come and sing. This made her think that there was something special about this feast in particular.

As she entered, she felt thankful that she did not have to come for the whole feast. With the sounds of revelry and merriness around, everyone rose from their seats and made their way to the Hall of Fire.

For the next hour or so other elves made the necessary music and song. After some time, Olorin came over and whispered into her ear that the next song was hers. Not long after, the tune changed. She recognized and knew the words, and she knew that she was expected to sing. So she sang.

_A Elbereth! Gilthoniel!_

_Silivren penna miriel_

_o menel aglar elenath!_

As she sang, she moved slowly toward the door.

_Na-chared palan-diriel_

_o galadhremmin ennorath,_

_Fanuilos, le linnathon_

_nef aear, si nef aearon!_

When the last notes of the song faded into the night, she slipped out the door. One elf saw her leaving and took her hand as she slipped out the door. He put a hand on her shoulder.

She turned and saw Glorfindel holding another envelope just like previous one. His face was serious. Immediately, suspicious began to whirl through her mind, but one thing in particular stuck out. _Who is sending these letters?_

She nodded seriously and asked, "_Ena?"_ (Another)

He nodded in response and quickly led her out into the night. Once they had reached a rather remote bridge, as far as bridges in Imladris go, he handed her the envelope.

Solemnly, she opened the envelope and withdrew the paper inside. The envelope, paper, seal were all just like the previous one. The note was written in the same hand-writing as the previous one.

_ The matter has become urgent. Please do not delay you trip to Caras Galadon. The misty Mountains are no longer safe to travel through. Proceed through the Gap of Rohan. Stop at Isengard. You are expected there. Your safety is at risk in this matter so please do not hesitate to leave._

_"Hi pedaim kelo Lothlorienello pela Orthanc_." (Much like the other time, it urges me to leave for Lothlorien immediately by way of Orthanc.)

"_Im pedale, una kel,"_ (As before, I urge you not to go) Glorfindel said with much emotion in his voice. She could tell that he would follow her if she left.

When she heard that much emotion in his voice, she smiled, showing a set of perfect, white teeth, and said, "_Im uva ukel si_." (I believe that my interests would be better served to remain here.)

"_Maan_," (That is good news indeed) he said with relief coursing through his voice.

Hearing that, she smiled again and embraced him. Then she said, "_Im andanuva le autant im celuva, Mellon_." (I shall miss you after I must leave, _Friend_.)

"_A im le_," he said, smiling sadly. After that, the golden-haired Elf Lord left.

She remained standing on that bridge for some time, letter in hand. Soon enough, she walked away.

ooooooo

She walked silently back to her room and began to take off the finery she had bedecked herself in for this feast and, more specifically, her little performance.

As she was finishing the removal of her fantastic hair coronet, she heard a knock at her door. With the grace befitting an elf, she rose and walked over to the door.

When she opened the door, she lost her decorum for a moment and said, surprised, "Telperin!"

"_Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo_," he said respectfully. He walked in, smiling in a friendly way, and shut the door behind him.

"_Nahin er anna lye utuva? __Er namarie_?" (Is there something you want? A good-bye perhaps?) she asked, hinting for him to leave.

His smile turned lusting in response. Telperin reached back and locked the door, never breaking eye contact with her. Slowly, he walked toward her, menacing.

"_Na lye tela_?" (What are you doing?) she asked, backing away from his frightening visage.

He suddenly bounded forward and pushed her back onto the bed with much force. Before she could do anything, he was on her, pinning her down with his knees and kissing her. Sirith resisted as well as she could, but he easily overpowered her.

Telperin started to kiss her chin, her throat, and down her breast bone. As soon as he freed her lips, she screamed. He immediately clapped a hand over her mouth and whispered, "_Din, din_." (silence, silence)

Just then, the door burst open and several guards ran into the room. All Sirith saw was several pairs of hands grabbing her assaulter roughly and pulling him away from her.

Telperin tried to take hold of her before he was completely off her, but her wrists and hands slid out of his grasp.

The guilty elf fell to the floor where two guards took hold of his wrists and pulled him up and out of the room.

For a second, Sirith continued to lie on the bed, tremors shaking her. One of the guards came over to her and asked, "_Nalye engwa?"_ (Are you hurt?)

She looked up at him with terrible pain in her eyes. "_Tula uar im,"_ (Come with me) she said.

Less obediently than helpfully, he offered his arm to support her. She accepted and said to him, "_Im pedath Glorfindelo_." (I must speak to Glorfindel)

He nodded and said comfortingly, "_Lyo nwalme na utuvant."_ (Your torment is past.)

She did not respond, but she did quicken her pace. Soon enough, they found Glorfindel at his usual place: on a bench near the bank of the river.

"Glorfindel!" she called weakly. He did not hear her.

The guard called more loudly and more formally, "_Heru_!"

The Elf Lord turned, surprised by the calls he heard. Immediately, he jumped up and ran straight to Sirith.

He gathered her in his arms, mouthing '_Hannon le'_ (Thank you) to the guard. The guard bowed and withdrew.

"Sirith. _Pedo imello!"_ (Sirith. Tell me what happened!) he said, concerned for her.

She burst into tears and laid her head down on his chest.

"Sirith! _Hi autant? Sirith! Daro! Liteo, Sirith_!" (Sirith! What happened? Sirith! Calm down! Please, Sirith!) he said, alarmed.

She continued to sob into his shoulder, unable to control herself. He saw a glimpse of the depth of her unsettlement and understood that there could be nothing he could do to help her right now, except to just be with her.

After awhile her sobs became less frequent and less heart-wrenching. She seemed to calm down to the point where she could talk understandably.

"Sirith, what happened?" he asked, highly disturbed by such anguish, especially from the woman he loved.

"Telperin!" she said, spitting his name out like the plague.

"What did he do?" he growled, tightening his arms around her out of protective instinct.

"He _came_ to my room…and…he tried to…_echantnur_!" she said with horror.

"What? He dared to-" he started.

"Wait…There is more…He was cold…and there was _no heartbeat_!" she spit out, shuddering.

"What?" the Elf Lord roared.

"_Hir na moredhel!"_ (He is a _dark elf_!) she said with terror as well as horror, burying her face in her hands.

"Are you sure?" Glorfindel asked, suddenly grave.

"_Neta_," (Yes,) she said, trembling.

"_Im quetuva Elrond_!" (I _must_ tell Elrond!) he said, jumping up. She quickly fell to the ground, sobbing again. "_Kelo uar im!"_ (Come with me!) he said, holding a hand down to help her up.

"_Im ukelo!"_ (I can not!) she insisted.

"_U? Ve moredhel sinome, Elrond golodh_!" (Why not? If there is a dark elf in Imladris, Elrond _must_ know!)

"Le _queto hir_! _Ve _hir_ utuva im_…" (_You_ tell him! If _he_ finds me…) She left the sentence hanging and started to sob again.

_"Le henuva_ hir," (Contact with _him_ is inevitable,) Glorfindel said, his face hardening.

"_Kelo im_?" (_Must_ I go?)

"_Queta Elrond maan. Heru quetuva im hi, ar heru queta im si_." (Merely informing Elrond will probably be sufficient. Elrond may ask me to handle it, or he might want me in attendance.)

"_Ar uve_?" (And what if he does not?) she asked, looking up with tears glistening on her face.

_"Ve hi maan, im chebuva le tuluva ne hir keluva,"_ (If it will help, I will stay with you until he is gone,) Glorfindel assured her. His skin began to tingle at the thought.

"_Ar ve le kela_?"(And if you must go to drive _him_ away?)

"_Im onuva uar le_," (Then I will get your father to stay with you,) he said, his voice falling ever so slightly. He _hoped_ that he could stay with her, be with her.

"_Hannon le_," (Thank you) she said, finally taking his hand.

"You might want to regain composure before going back to the hall." In response, she wiped away the tears from her face and tried to calm down.

When she once again appeared relatively calm, he led her slowly back to the hall.

Nearly everyone noticed them as they entered, especially the fact that it was those two _together_.

Glorfindel led Sirith right up to Elrond. The three of them knew each other extremely well, so Elrond spotted just how odd it was that they did not walk up as equals.

"We must speak in private," the Elf Lord said in a low voice, conveying a sense of urgency.

Quickly, the Lord of Imladris rose and led the way to the library. Once inside, thethree of them sat facing each other.

"Now, what is it you wish to speak to me about?" Elrond asked. His eyes never left Sirith as he spoke, for it was obvious to him something was gravely wrong with her.

"_Heru, Sirith golodh Telperin, tiro ianto, una Eldar. __Le na moredhel_." (My lord, Sirith has discovered that Telperin, a guard of the bridge, is not what he appears to be. He is a dark elf.)

"_Le golodh?"_ (Are you sure?) Elrond asked quickly.

"_Neta, Elrond_," (Completely,) Sirith said, cutting in before Glorfindel could answer for her. Her voice still reflected some of the anguish she had experienced.

Elrond heard that emotion and said, "_Glorfindel, chebo hiril. __Imo oree pedo Sirith una er an Telperin na si. __Im hilath Telperin mi anargalad. Le golodh hi?" _ (Glorfindel, stay with her. My heart tells me that she should not be left alone while he is near. I will exile him in the morning. How did you find out?)

"T-telpe-" (H-he…) she could not finish. She nearly collapsed in a dead faint right there from the memory of _his_ horrible _cold_ touch, but Glorfindel shot up and squatted in front of her. He took hold of her shoulders gently, and held her up for a second before she regained control f herself.

"_Telperin raenant uechantnurello Sirith,"_ (He tried to rape her,) Glorfindel said, spitting out the words.

At the same time, he moved on of his hands to her hands that were clutched together in her lap. He rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of her hand, reminding her that he was there and nothing would harm her.

Elrond's eyes quickly licked to her, studying her body language and paired expression carefully. He knew at that point what Telperin had done to her.

_Eru help us…Why the Princess? Our last, most secret hope? She'll be so fragile…Glorfindel will have to stay with her._

"_Glorfindel, rano Siritho- usiritho sinomesse- an Telperin na sinome. __Kelesse. Chebo Telperin Sirithello!"_ (Glorfindel, stay with her- not in her quarters- until he is outside the city. Stay indoors. Whatever you do, keep him away from her!)

"_Hi na, imo Heru_," (It shall be done, my lord,) Glorfindel said.

The three of them walked to the corridor outside in complete silence. Glorfindel led Sirith to the left, away from the Hall of Fire. Elrond watched them for several seconds before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. He walked back to the Hall of Fire to find some guards to rid the city of Telperin.

oooooooo

When they were both out of the hall and in the cool, night air, Sirith asked, "_Usinome met keluva_?" (Where shall we go?)

"_Hi una sinome le kel, i parmasinome_." (It must not be a place where you normally go, like the library.)

"_Sinome?"_ (Where, then?) she asked wearily, leaning heavily on him.

"_Sinome le ukel?"_ (Where do you not normally go?)

"_Sinomesse an imo ar imo adaro_." (Anyone's quarters save mine and my father's.)

"_Hiesse, kelo imo sinomessello. Telperin utir sinome."_ (In that case, come to my quarters. He certainly won't look there.)

"_Maan,"_ (Very well,) she said.

All of this was actually a bit of a whispered conversation because they were afraid that _he_ was listening, but were they right?

ooooooooo

Glorfindel brought her to his quarters. He wished that he could go kill Telperin, but Sirith could not be left alone right now. She thought that Telperin would try to find her again, but not if someone was with her.

For half the night she sat, staring into the fire. Her arms were wrapped around herself, reassuring her.

After awhile, Glorfindel became concerned about Sirith. She had not moved for hours. It was not like her at all. She was normally so energetic and full of life, not silent and brooding

Because of this concern an love of her he went over to her, he bent down in front of her. She did not seem to see him. "Sirith!" he called to her softly.

Immediately, she recoiled, pulling her legs up to her torso in fright. "_Hi na im, Sirith! Una nwalme!"_ (It is me, Sirith! Do not be afraid!)

When she heard his voice, she relaxed and said sheepishly, "_Im baleeath golodhello."_ (I was deep in thought.)

"_Im golodh an lo hen. __Le ugolodh Telperino_!" (I gathered as much from your expression. You should not think of him!)

"_Una im_?" (How can I not?) she asked despairingly.

"_Kel uar im,"_ (Come with me,) he said, taking her hand gently. She rose and followed him to the couch.

Once there, he gently pulled her down so that she laid right next to him, with her head on his chest. His unbuttoned shirt gathered behind him, but his sleeves were still on, somehow

So that she would not think of the dark elf, he told her stories of the Elder Days through the whole night. He loved how her eyes twinkled with excitement as he told her of his various adventures.

Finally, she fell asleep. He wrapped an arm securely around her waist so she would not fall. He ran his other hand through her hair lovingly.

ooooooo

Sirith woke to a feeling of warmth and comfort all around here. Light shone through the doorway of her room. _Wait…This isn't my room!_

Her head shot up, and she looked around quickly. She looked down and saw Glorfindel's arms around her. Alarmed, she jumped up and sat in the chair on the other side of the room, drawing her legs close to her body.

"_Heru! Heru! Telperin na kel!"_ (My lord! My lord! Telperin is gone!) a voice called from outside.

Glorfindel awoke instantly, noticing within a second that Sirith was gone. He looked desperately around the room and relaxed visibly when he saw her. Only then did the messenger's words register in his mind.

"Sirith, come with me! He's gone! It is safe!" Glorfindel said happily, running over to her side.

"He is?" she asked.

"Yes, now come!" the Elf Lord continued, pulling her up and out the door.

ooooooooooo

Once again, Sirith was drawing in the afternoon sun. This time, she was sitting near the edge of the dell while she drew her overview of the whole valley of Imladris. She could see the main bridge and the main complex as well as multiple other bridges throughout the valley. She could also see her friend, Glorfindel on a bridge at the far side of the dell. He looked very thoughtful.

She had to make sure that her beautiful, silk, green gown did not catch on any of the branches of the tree she sat in. The silk of her gown was draped from her neckline and attached to her arms near her elbows and held up by slender bands of silver encircling her arms.

Her hair fell down her back that was bare until about half way down. It was so light, like the gold of sunset. She wanted it to not fall on her paper or obstruct her field of vision.

She wore this dress for a particular reason: Legolas was coming. He would be arriving within a few days. That in itself was such a comfort for her that she decided to look her best for her friend's arrival.

Unfortunately, she would be interrupted on this day, of all days; and not by the young elven warrior, Telperinfin, that so annoyed and pestered her. She had seen him walking to the Elven Smith currently living in Imladris. He had walked out much later with a cloth-wrapped parcel in his hands. She had already carefully sketched his exit into her drawing on the east side of the dell.

Now, thankfully, he was gone, exiled.

Currently, she was drawing a section of road near the graceful bridge that served as the entrance of Imladris. As she looked up to this rather insignificant splotch of land, she saw something very odd. She saw orcs trampling their unclean feet on the road leading to Imladris. They had their swords drawn and seemed ready to attack.

Quickly, she packed up her drawing supplies and hastily climbed down from the slender boughs that supported her weight so easily. As she climbed down, she planned how she would get to the bridge. She chose a roundabout path so that she would come up from the side by the city. She knew it was dangerous, but she had to get there.

It was a long way to the opposite side of the valley. The way was made all the longer by the winding path through Imladris she followed. As she quickly sped onto an established path, several other elves joined her in her investigation.

It took many long minutes to reach to the source of the noise, which she had only heard when she had gotten within a mile of the bridge. When they reached it, to them, it sounded as though a battle was raging, and in a way it was.

As the group of seven elves, three of them elf-maids, came near to the clamour, they found that there were orcs at the entrance. They were not just any orcs; these were Uruk-hai. They were large and broad in stature and engaged in a small battle, more like a skirmish, with the bridge guards.

Several guards had fallen already. Many other elves were joining the battle, those that had swords. Unfortunately, she had left her sword in her chambers (she was a very good swordswoman).

Other elf-maids were helping the wounded out of the fray. Sirith checked to see if reinforcements were coming, and, sure enough, warriors were running to the battlefield from the barracks. She recognized many of them, her friends. The young elf hurried to help one of them away from the melee, wondering if any of them would recognize her. She helped the wounded guard over the grass.

As she came back to help a second fallen, an orc grabbed her from behind. She immediately twisted free of its grip. A guard came up to the orc from behind as she performed this procedure and stabbed it in the back.

By twisting away in just that way, one of the guards, Arion. He had seen her twist away from Telperin in that manner more than once. He ran over to her, cutting down many orcs in the process. He started to pull her away from the battle protectively, but she refused to go without helping the wounded she had been helping previously. He would die if he was not treated soon.

Arion was stabbed in his side by a second Uruk. His arms quickly jerked up in pain, and the cloth package she had seen him holding earlier went flying from his hand. The Uruk grab grabbed her around the waist and carried her off, very far and fast, into the forest. Her last glance at the battlefield showed Olorin being stabbed in the heart by an orc. Olorin's body slid from the crude sword of his enemy, dead.

As she struggled, the elf-maiden looked around her. She immediately noticed other elf-maids in similar straights to her: being hauled away by orcs. By looking around she exposed her head. The target was immediately taken advantage of by the orc carrying her. It struck her unconscious.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

As soon as he heard of what happened, Elrond sent out scouts. Many of the elf-maidens that were taken had been from Mirkwood and Lothlorien. As he looked over the list of elves taken, his eyes fell on one name and his heart dropped to his stomach. _Our hope is fallen! They took her! They took the Princess!_

He hoped they would find some sign of the orcs passage, and even doubted that they would not considering how heavy and lumbering orcs tended to be.

He bade the scouts to return with haste if they found a sign, unless it was a clear trail, then he was to follow it for long enough to make sure of the direction then report back.

The scouts searched the forests surrounding Imladris, and found very obvious evidence of the band's passage in one direction. They returned one by one as many elf-maidens as possible, and kill as many orcs as possible.

Elrond also decided to inform Celeborn, the Elven Lord of Lothlorien, Galadriel, Lady of Light, and Cirdan the Shipwright of the present predicament. He regretted the loss of so many young elf-maids and sincerely hoped they would be recovered from the powers of Mordor in this attempt. Only they and Olorin knew of Sirith's identity, so he told only them.

However, he only told Celeborn and Galadriel of Sirith. He merely said to them, "The one we hoped for was taken, she of the royal line."

"No! How dare they take our kin!" Galadriel had immediately answered.

"She is gone, but we _must get her BACK_!" Elrond exclaimed. Then, he broke off contact with them.

He called for his most trusted advisor, Glorfindel. _Since the scouts found nothing, he must know._

As soon as the golden-haired elf entered, he closed the door and bowed. "_Net, imo heru?"_ (Yes, my lord?) he asked.

"You know that Sirith is gone," he said bluntly, trying to make his voice level.

"Yes. What of her?" Glorfindel asked, fighting to keep emotion out of his tone.

"Her mother was Finduilas," Elrond said briefly, "She is the hope that has remained hidden among us for so long: the Noldorin Princess."

"Not Sirith!" Glorfindel whispered, shocked. "How do you know?" he asked louder.

"She asked me to remove all of her memories just before I left with Gil-galad for Orodruin," he said.

"Not her, please not her," Elrond heard Glorfindel whisper.

"Why not her?" Elrond asked.

"_I-I-Im…mel Sirith_," (I-I-I…love her,) Glorfindel said, struggling to put it into words.

Comprehension dawned of Elrond and he looked at his advisor and friend with pity. "I am sorry," he said.

oooooooooo

When she woke, Sirith's hands were bound. There was darkness around her. The only light came from several torches being held by her captors, the orcs.

The Uruks stood around her and several other elf-maids in a loose circle. The entire group was in a rather small clearing in a forest of deciduous trees. The orcs looked like they were waiting for something. With that fact, she knew that this was some sort of designated meeting point.

The only way she could tell there were other elf-maids in the clearing because she could see the bright eyes of the other elf-maidens and the silver-white shine off their clothes and skin.

She was forcefully pulled from her observant examination by a high, cold shriek in the night. The memory of that same screech was imprinted in her memory about 2,000 years ago, at just about the end of the Second Age.

She had been much younger when that cold scream had split the night so many years ago. The Nazgul had come the previous time to negotiate for the surrender of the Eldar, a surrender that never came. That Nazgul had been an embassy from the dark land of Mordor that time, but not this time. It wasn't even a Nazgul, just one of their flying mounts.

From this horrid memory she was pulled by a huge orc pulling her to her feet by the bindings on her wrists. This force pulled the bindings even tighter, which caused a nearly unendurable amount of pain.

When she had just barely gained her feet, a second fear-inspiring cry split the sky. The orcs shrank back and covered their ears. She would have as well, if her hands weren't bound together with a rough cord.

As she looked up to the sky, a winged shape appeared on the horizon. She could only see it as it passed in front of them, or when it blotted out the light of the stars. This dark shape was undoubtedly a Ring wraith's flying mount, raised in the pits of Mordor. She hoped that they were still close enough to Imladris for someone, to see it as it came into land.

The gigantic beast's landing was as loud as a thunderclap. Again, she wished she could cover her ears from the loud sound. The bindings once again prevented that. The orcs, on the other hand, were covering up their ears while simultaneously making a space for the huge creature and its gigantic wings.

As soon as the beast landed, a shout came from the surrounding forest. The shouting was high, clear, and distinctly elven. Slender figures clad in shining armor burst out from the trees, attacking. The orcs immediately took up their crude swords and took on the defense.

The form on the Nazgul's mount was slender and had a physic like a runner. He had red hair and maroon eyes. His skin was deathly pale.

The form on the Nazgul's mount jumped off and started searching through the elf-maids as if he was searching for someone in particular.

As the orcs died one by one, the man from the Nazgul pulled out a few elf-maids from the bunch one by one. Up to this point, he had been searching in a clockwise pattern. Now, he was only five feet away.

At that point, he stopped to study the elf next to her. His eyes stayed on her for longer than most of the others before moving on.

When his eyes moved on to her, they froze. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She wore a long, flowing, green gown. She wore a corset over the top part of her gown, completing the look perfectly. The skirt was made of a flowing, silky material and the sleeves were connected to part of the gown underneath the corset. The sleeves were long sleeves in the normal, elven fashion.

After a few seconds, he moved forward swiftly and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her sharply into the line with the other three elves. At this point, she noticed that all three of the other selected persons had very light hair, for Noldor. Only her hair was blonde instead of brown. They also all had blue eyes, except for her. All four of them were approximately the same height.

The man from the Nazgul's beast walked across the line of four elf-maids, finding the one that fit some description best. As he reached her in the line, he turned slowly with an odd look in his eyes. He gently picked up a strand of her hair and looked at it intensely. Something about her hair, the texture or color perhaps, intrigued him.

Slowly, his eyes moved up to look at her face. As soon as their eyes met, he abruptly grasped her chin gently yet firmly and looked fiercely into her eyes with recognition on his face and especially in the smoldering fire in his eyes. Very soon after that, he grasped her waist and set her up on the gigantic, winged creature.

The orcs, the few of them that were left at least, backed away, and the beast spread its wings to take off. She felt a huge rush of air as the beast took off, beating its great, featherless wings with ease.

Just then, the elves broke through the orcish defenses. By then, there were barely ten orcs left. One elf, the leader, ran forward faster than the rest. His hand was outstretched to the helpless elf-maid, trying one last time to rescue her before it was too late. Her hands were outstretched toward his, hoping to be rescued before being taken to some dark tower for some unknown yet most likely dark purpose. It was too late for such help.

The rest of the orcs were quickly dispatched and the other elf-maids recovered unharmed. She was the only one they could not help for she was taken.

Sirith could remember very little of the nightmarish ride. She felt the air rushing by with great speed and hideous shrieking splitting the sky in shrill tones. She could also remember the rider smoothing back her hair softly to look at her eyes once more. He looked mesmerized by the deep, sparkling brightness of her beryl-green eyes. She could remember nothing else of the long, nighttime ride as they sped east, to Dol Guldur.

oooooooooooo

Soon after, Elrond received word that the orcs had been ambushed just as a Nazgul or something like it had come in, landed, and taken away one elf-maid. All of the other elf-maidens were recovered quickly, and the orcs slaughtered.

Regretfully, the elf-maid that had not been recovered was Sirith, daughter of Finduilas. She was his daughter's friend AND Legolas's friend AND Erestor's friend AND his friend AND the elf Glorfindel hoped to wed. Olorin was also Thranduil's friend, but he had been killed. She also happened to have a wonderful soprano voice. He had heard it at the feast yesterday.

oooooooooooo

Meanwhile, several parties approached Imladris from many different directions. A lone person approached from the West. He was a man of Gondor. His sword arm was strong and his leadership decisive.

Another approached from the West. This party was made up of four hobbits and one man, their guide. They had only recently learned to trust him, as the Nazgul had attacked them. Luckily for them, only five had come instead of all nine.

A third party was on its way there from the Elven Realm of Mirkwood. All of the members in the party were elves. The leader of this party was a personal friend of the kidnapped elf. Currently, he was carrying a message for Master Elrond of Rivendell.

As this party approached Imladris from one direction, they met a scout near the ford of the Bruinen close to Imladris. The scout told them of what had transpired recently at the bridge, what he knew of it at least. That was all the scout had time for. He hurried on to follow the trail the orcs had clearly trampled, trying to make up the lost time. The party continued on to the dell in haste.

When the elves reached Imladris, their leader, an elf named Legolas, went to see Elrond. He found that he was just in time to go to a meeting being called the Council of Elrond in a month. He would represent the sylvan elves of Mirkwood at the council where the fate of the One Ring would be decided. Elrond then told him all he knew of what had happened to his friend and the other elf-maids that were taken.

Legolas also said that he would come immediately if he found a reason for Mordor to want a large number of elf-maids, outside of the obvious hostages scenario. Elrond did not tell him about Sirith's lineage. Yet both of them still feared for their mutual friend's life, considering the infamous cruelty of the forces of Mordor.

oooooooooooo

As Legolas prepared to leave Imladris with the Fellowship (which consisted of Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn, Boromir, and Gandalf), his thoughts turned to his friend, Sirith, and the other elf-maids.

He remembered reports of a Nazgul or something like it coming in, about a league from Imladris, and landing. It had taken off soon after with his friend on as cargo, and sped east. It was curious that the ring wraith had flown straight east. There was only one major outpost of Mordor to the East, Dol Guldur.

He was concerned because this was over a month ago. He also hoped that the fellowship would make its way to the edge of Mirkwood, his homeland, but he doubted it.

"Excuse me," someone said by the door, "I have information about your friend, Sirith." Legolas turned quickly to find Mithrandir standing in the doorway.

"What?" Legolas asked very quickly after Mithrandir had finished. Hope filled his heart at that moment. It was hope that his friend could be rescued from wherever she was being held.

"She is inside Dol Guldur," Gandalf answered, "While Saruman was gloating, he told me of an elf-maid that had been captured and taken to Dol Guldur. She was going to be tortured." His voice was very grave.

"Why are you telling me this?" The elven prince was saddened by the news, and because it was his very good friend they were torturing.

"Because she tried to escape from Dol Guldur," Gandalf said, "the only way she could find was up. This eventually led her to the top of the highest tower, where a Nazgul was waiting. The Nazgul brought her back inside. She was put under the highest security possible in Dol Guldur." Gandalf also remembered that Sirith had known the name from his youth, Olorin. He wasn't about to tell anyone that until he knew exactly what that meant.

"I can not abandon the fellowship to save her, so what can I do?" Legolas's voice was very downcast and showed a wealth of emotion.

"You are her friend and deserve to know the fate she will probably have resigned herself to."

"Thank you for this information," Legolas stated. Gandalf left a downtrodden Legolas to his thoughts after that. Inwardly, the elf was now even more frustrated. They were torturing his friend and he could do nothing for her. He had already felt that hey were hurting her, and this just confirmed it.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Sirith lay in a small, dark cell on the interior of Dol Guldur. She was currently under constant guard by human guards. They did not skimp on her and just guard her with orcs. Humans could think independently without harming people much easier than orcs could. They only did this because she had tried to escape:

_ Sirith lay in that same, dark cell in Dol Guldur. She had the use of one window, and a small one at that one at that, to look on the fields leading to the dark forest of Mirkwood, to count the number of days gone by in this dismal place._

_ As she thought of this tedious, painful time, she heard the large keys being turned in the sturdy, complex lock of the very large, iron door preventing her from leaving this room._

_ Seconds later, the same orcs as always walked into the small, poorly-lit room, grinning in anticipation. One of them stooped to pick her up very roughly and bring her to the torture chamber, again, but she kicked out with her less injured foot and kicked him in the face._

_ As soon as she could right herself from when she lashed out, she immediately jumped up and ran through the bewildered crowd of orcs, hitting several more as she went. From there, she went out the door._

_ Quickly, she ran down the stone hallway. Soon, she encountered a flight of stairs. These stairs seemed endless as she ran up them, wary of some sort of attempt to stop her._

_ Soon, she came to a very sturdy looking door. She pushed it open after several tries, hurling her entire body weight at it_

_ Unfortunately, the door opened noisily onto the roof. Straight in front of her was a huge, winged beast, exactly the same one that had transported her to this dark tower._

_ There was a rider on that beast. It, actually he, jumped down immediately to the stone of the rooftop and walked toward her with a measured, even pace. His hand was outstretched toward her and she somehow felt drawn to him, probably through some dark power._

_ She denied that urge to go to the black cloaked rider and stepped instead toward the edge of the roof. The rider in black matched her pace, copying her step for step._

_ In response, she threw herself over the edge, plunging down to what she thought would be her death not from the fall, but the sudden stop at the end. She would rather die than continue this slow decline before the dark powers took her forcibly._

_ Immediately, the winged beast took off and flew down to catch her in its large, sharp talons. It then flew back up to the roof and deposited her none too gently on the roof before flying off again to its true rider, a Nazgul._

_ As soon as she was lying on the roof, gasping in pain, the temporary rider of the beast stepped forward and picked her up more gently than the featherless monster had. Immediately, she screamed and fainted, collapsing into the cloaked figure's arms limply._

_ He brought Sirith back immediately to the cell, leaving her with no food or water, of which she had had none in several days._

She remembered the next time she had tried to escape quite well.

_ Sirith lay still in the dark cell of that same room with one small window that barely allowed light into the poorly lit room. Apparently, it night, for almost no light came through the tiny window._

_ Suddenly, the door popped open and her torturers walked in for the first time in over two day, which was quite unusual. This time, of all times, she was prepared for them, ready for them._

_ She immediately ran at them, forcing the hell of her palm up with as much force as she could muster to one of their noses and shoved it into the brain, more than merely incapacitating those that she hit. It killed them._

_ From there, she ran out of the room and down the torch-lit hallway at a rapid pace. She ran in the opposite direction from the room as the previous time. She assumed that if the other way went up, then this way must go down._

_ Quickly, she ran through the hallway in semi-darkness, down the stairway she came to, and through yet another poorly lit hallway. She went down several more rather treacherous and slippery staircases and through several, branching hallways. Surprisingly, she found the entrance, thankfully._

_ She ran out to the small, dirt road that started just beyond the stone of the entryway. Quickly, she ran off of the road onto the barren field to the side, extending out to the dark forest of southern Mirkwood._

_ She ran for several minutes as quickly as she could manage before she came into of a huge, stone wall stretching out into the distance on either side. This was very good because only a hundred yards from the wall was the forest. If she just got to the forest, she would be safe from pursuit, or so she thought. In accordance to this thought and that the wall was quite high, she increased her speed to increase the length and height of the inevitable jump she would have to make to get over the wall._

_ In due course, she jumped up and over the thick, high wall, speeding out into the field beyond without slacking her pace at all._

_ Unfortunately, that same maroon-eyed man that had been overseeing and taking pleasure in her torture already knew of her escape. He had been staring out his window, planning and plotting, when he saw her running out into the distance. He had immediately sent for the immense, fell mount that he occasionally flew instead of riding a mere horse._

_ Quickly, he sped forth on his winged beast to stop her, to catch her before she could enter the forest. Soon, but not soon enough for him, he had her within his sight._

_ Speedily, he urged his fell mount onward quickly to land in front of her, cutting her off from direct escape very effectively. Immediately, she turned on her toe at a right angle and continued to run, trying to escape despite his efforts to prevent her from leaving, actually escaping, Dol Guldur._

_ He quickly bade the large mount to take to the air once more with a single, huge beat of its powerful wings. It landed once more in front of her, blocking her from running parallel to the fence or perpendicular to the stone. This time, the monstrous creature advanced forward towards her on its powerful legs, driving her up against the stone wall._

_ The maroon-eyed man then jumped off the beast that threatened to squash her if she moved to far. He ordered it to stay where it was so that she would not run once more, or feel too threatened._

_ Carefully, he walked towards her at a slow, measured pace. As soon as he could, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to the beast. He threw her unceremoniously onto the beast's back in a blur of motion. He jumped up behind her before she could jump off the beast._

_ Once again on an aerial ride to Dol Guldur astride the strange, featherless creature, he repeated the same, odd process of looking carefully intensely into her green eyes and caressing her black hair._

_ As he did this, a powerful surge flowed over him, very nearly overpowering him and his sense of responsibility. If he had not resisted with every ounce of strength and will he possessed, he would have landed and had his way with her, passionately and forcefully if necessary, right there. As it was, he could not resist looking into her beautiful, green eyes and feeling once again her soft, silky hair._

_ He had her locked up again as soon as they reached the citadel. He locked her into the same room, under constant guard this time. For the sake of his self control, he immediately ran from the room, trying desperately not to go back and take her. He had never been denied before._

_ After awhile, that same maroon-eyed man decided to give exactly what she had hoped for: to be outside again. That also kept her out in the open so that he would not come and take her. He put her outside the citadel, but he chained her to the ground by her wrists and ankles with her back up._

_ As he finished chaining her, he ran a hand across her shoulder blades lightly and gently, feeling the smoothness and softness of her skin. His hand paused a little over half way across her back, his self control beginning to crumble._

_ When his hand moved again, he lightly traced down her spine to the silken laces of her gown. He carefully and slowly unlaced the back of her gown to the small of her back. His hands paused there once more. He was desperately trying to regain his control before he did something he would undoubtedly regret when _he_ came._

_ Now, he let go of the laces of her gown and brought out his whip. He whipped her mercilessly until there was hardly any flesh left on her back. Her bones were exposed._

_ He left her there, with tender flesh exposed to the air. Oh so very little flesh was left keeping her organs in._

_ During the night, he could not sleep for having a nightmare of the harm he had caused her. Because of this, he decided to spare her back further torment, for the sake of the longing he felt for her. He ordered her to be placed back in her cell._

_ Even as the guards brought her in, that same man left his room at a run to see how she had fared in the two days, especially her back. Before he had whipped her, her skin had been silky and smooth to perfection. Now, he expected it to be gone, completely_

_ When the men dragged her past, he noticed immediately her back. It was even worse than he had imagined and feared it would be. There was almost no skin left on her back because it had all peeled away._

_ However, just because he ordered for her to be taken in once more did not mean that he would order for that sunburn to be cared for as it should have been. He walked behind her all the way back to her cell and locked her in himself, uncared for in any way whatsoever except a cold meal and a little water left just inside the door._

_ After only an hour, his worry overrode everything else and he went to her cell._

_ When Sirith woke, she felt soft, cold hands on the tender, exposed flesh of her back. They were rubbing in sap from a special plant._

_ She tried to roll to her back, or even her side, to see who was doing this, but the hands grabbed her shoulders and held her tightly._

_ She gave that up and allowed him to continue. Soon after, she fell asleep. _

The prisoner's green gown hemmed with silver thread was completely unharmed, despite all that had happened in her imprisonment. This entrapment had been a month or two in length (she could not keep track of time in here).

In these past weeks, she had been tortured brutally, oftentimes more than once a day. After the previous time, she had been brought back to this cold, dark cell once more to await the next torment they had in store for her.

She was quite thankful for this time, little as it sometimes was, before she was tortured again. She could rest and recuperate enough to last far longer in this painful process than if she had not attempted to heal at least some of her injuries quickly. She probably would have died far before now if she had not focused primarily on healing and secondarily on escape.

Fresh tears traced rivulets down her cheeks, curving lines of wetness from her eyes. These tears were different from those that had come as a result of the ever-tangible pain. These came because she was sad not only for missing her friends (curiously enough all elves) she had become so fond of in Imladris, Lothlorien, and Mirkwood, but also for Olorin, killed by an orc piercing his heart back in Imladris so long ago (or so it appeared).

She missed talking with Glorfindel, in both the serious and not very serious matters. She had confided in him about her increasing problem with Telperinfin that now seemed so trivial.

She also missed her previous friends that she still had occasional contact with, until she was taken. She missed going on long, peaceful walks under the dark boughs of Mirkwood with Legolas, son of Thranduil. He had been so kind and understanding.

For many long, uncountable years, she and Olorin had wandered Middle Earth together. During this time, he had been her one and only companion, the only warm and tender person for such a long time.

One time while they had been wanderers, they had come across a gray wolf. Olorin had stepped forward slowly and let it smell his hand. When the wolf had finished smelling the elf's hand, he nudged Olorin's arm, asking for affection. Olorin had obliged gladly. He had then brought her forward, instructing her to pet the wolf. That was the single point at which she began to become acquainted with wild animals. She loved him as a daughter should love a father, but he was gone now, forever gone.

She also missed just sitting with Arwen. In that duty, she had quite often been sent away, which she did not mind at all. It allowed her more time to keep Haldir, Rűmil, and Orophin company while they were on their sentry duty in the northwestern portion of Lothlorien near the river Nimrodel.

She missed many different people for a myriad of reasons. The problem was that she highly doubted she would ever see any of them ever again, trapped as she now was in the dark prison and slowly being killed from fatigue and torment.

Wherever she went, there always seemed to be one thing that ruined all of it, one thing that spoiled all of the others. That one ruinous thing this time was that maroon-eyed man's men, the higher ranking ones apparently, were allowed to come to her when they were not required elsewhere and do whatever they pleased, so long as they did not kill her or permanently maim her. She had heard one of them discussing the less than comforting fact with the guard before he came in.

Most of these men were too awed by her appearance, even thought she was injured, to do anything but stare at her until the orcs returned. One in particular had been able to master that feeling surprisingly easily and get on to why he came. Unfortunately, she remembered that dreadful experience quite clearly.

_ As she lay on the cold, stone floor of the small, cold cell, she heard footsteps approaching the door in the hallway. They stopped just outside the door, so she could heal by the sound. She heard two people talking outside the iron door. Soon after, the door opened to reveal a man, different from those that had previously come._

_ The man wore a white shirt and black breeches, belted at the waist. He was very tall, for a human. She knew it was not Saruman for this human was around 35 solar years in age (as far as she could tell), and Saruman could hardly have been bothered to come all the way to Dol Guldur from Orthanc when he had important business to attend to. He was rather good-looking, for a human once again. Something about his face made her think that he was definitely not a virtuous or kind person._

_ He started pacing expectantly around the room as she leaned unsteadily against the grimy wall, trying to stand up on her injured feet. As he watched her, he said, "What is your name, elf-maid?"_

_ She did not answer, did not show any sign in her face or body, or voice that she understood a single word of what he said. He repeated the question in elvish saying, "_Edhel, lyo esse?"

_ "_Quenuvalye i lamber eldareva_," (You can speak a tongue of the elves) she said simply, refusing absolutely to speak in Westron._

_ "Do no resist me if you want to live!" he exclaimed. When he finished saying that, he reached her in his slow pacing of the room. He then supported her with one of his rather thin but still powerful arms and used the other to encircle her waist in a surprisingly strong grip._

_ He bent to kiss her. In response, she slammed her knee quickly and as hard as she could up between his legs. He let go of her immediately and stumbled back, his face twisted in extreme pain._

_ She, however, fell against the hard wall and propped herself up again against it, slowly. Once she had accomplished that, she backed up as fast as she was able at the time. He did not progress any farther than that because, thankfully, orcs came in then to torture her yet more (odd as it seems that she or anyone else could be thankfully for such a terrible atrocity)._

That event had occurred before they put her in the high security of this accursed prison. She was now held in a high, cold tower on the perimeter. At that time, she was held in a rather small, plain room with one window smaller even than the one she currently had the advantage of. The room was made of plain, black stone.

Recently, no more men had been coming. She suspected it was because they had been ordered not to. It could also be because the news had spread that she was gravely injured, but she thought the former idea was more likely.

A glance at the horizon through the small window gave her hope again. The moon was waxing and shone with silvery brightness upon her. She could see the evening star shining from the blanket of darkness behind. The stars reminded her of the light of the Silmarils.

Her thoughts turned to her actual torturing. She had noticed a figure watching the proceedings. That figure was slender and fit, built much like a runner, and it appeared to be male. He had red hair and maroon eyes that glinted in the firelight. There was an evil gleam in those eyes. He had an air of power around him. He had exerted much authority over the orcs. She wouldn't want to cross him.

She remembered, in particular, one specific strategy they had tried to make her talk.

_ The orcs came in, as usual, and dragged her to the room in which they performed their torturing, psychological and physical. A man walked in as the orcs set her down. He had red hair and maroon eyes. She most definitely recognized him._

_ He came over to where she lay and turned her over using one hand on her shoulder so that she was on her back. He kept one hand on her shoulder and brought his other hand over so it hovered right over her neck, barely an inch away. Slowly, he brought his hand up and touched her cheek with a single fingertip. She saw, at that point, only what he wanted her to see._

_ She had seen a vision that she was in Mirkwood once more, walking with Legolas. He tried to get her to reveal what would happen to the Ring. He also wanted to know about Mithrandir, although he had called hi Olorin. Unfortunately for them, she was quite accomplished in her mental abilities._

_ His manner was just like Legolas's way of acting. Despite his similarity in manner, she was not particularly forthcoming in her information giving. In frustration, he knelt down grabbed her shoulders, and shook her. He nearly yelled into her face, "Tell me what you know!" When he did that, she immediately knew that it was not Legolas that stood before her. It was someone else._

_ After multiple attempts in such an odd fashion, her torturers gave up trying and reverted to something the knew how to do very well indeed: physical torture._

Once again, her thoughts made an unexpected turn to Olorin. He had been here before he escaped. She wondered how he had escaped. Surely, he would tell Olorin where she was and some one would help her. Help would hopefully be here soon. A single glance at some of her latest injuries made her redouble her wishes that whatever help was sent, even though he was able to do nothing for her. She was almost the only person who remembered his name fro his youth. She had not been alive then (she thought), but he had told her of his youth when she had been young.

The pain of her multiple abuses throbbed constantly. They had done many things to her, all of them painful. All of these things happened more times than she cared to think about. Sometimes, she wondered why she had not come out worse from that torturing. The good thing of the torturing (if such a thing was possible) was that the orcs were careless in letting drop small bits of information.

She had learned that two great people would be arriving at Dol Guldur shortly. They had referred to one as the Great One and one as 'the visitor'. Unfortunately, she had no idea who they were or why they were coming, although she suspected it had something to do with the fact that they had just captured the _only _elf to have ever been captured by Sauron in the Third Age of Middle Earth.

Slowly, she dragged her body up, using the stone wall to support herself. She pulled herself over to the window and looked out at the road. By chance, dust was rising about two miles away from the main gate, kicked up by a large company of horses. This probably was announcing the arrival of one of the two people, maybe even both of them.

As she stood there, leaning against the sturdy wall, she heard heavy, booted footsteps coming. The footsteps were not from iron-shod feet, so they were not orcs. Considering loudness and tone, she thought they were men.

When she heard the footsteps approaching quickly, she laid herself back down on the stone floor gently to conserve her strength. Right when she was once more laying on the floor, the iron door opened and a relatively small group of men entered the miniature room.

Two of them walked straight to her and grasped her arms quite firmly. They smoothly pulled her up in a combined but hardly strenuous effort until she was on her feet. She failed to support her own weight and fell back towards the cold floor. They pulled her back up again and supported most of her weight so she wouldn't fall.

One of the men that hadn't helped her up led the group of five out. The two people supporting her followed him through the door. The remaining man brought up the rear. His hand calmly rested on the hilt of his sword.

The first man led the group through several hallways, all of them straight, long, and dark to a medium sized room. On one side of the room, a small table had various metal cups on it. Along the back wall there was a five foot by ten foot bathing pool. On the right side wall, there was a stack of bandages along with a small bundle of red clothing.

The two men supporting her first set her down surprisingly gently in the middle of the room. Their gentleness was still slightly offset by their roughness.

One of the men stayed by her side while the other one retrieved one of the metal cups from the table. He brought it quickly back and showed the apparently liquid contents to the other man. The man kneeling beside her shook his head and said, "The green one first, _then_ the yellow."

Quickly, the man put that cup back and brought a different one, this time with green contents, to the other man. The kneeling man nodded his head that time.

He took the cup and raised her head up to it with his other hand so that she could swallow without choking. Before he forced the drink on her, he whispered in her ear, "This will not harm you. It will help you heal faster."

At this point, Sirith would not have cared if it hurt her or not because it would either make the pain go away by healing her or killing her. This prompted her to drink deeply.

When the whole cup was empty, she sputtered and coughed as the liquid flowed down her throat. "Good…good," the man kneeling beside her said to her.

The other man had, while she drank, retrieved the other cup spoken of. Now he traded the full cup for the empty cup. She obediently drank the second cup while he put the cup back on the table. When she had finished the second cup, one of the men put it back on the table while the other man picked her up and brought her to the edge of the bathing pool.

By this time, the second potion began to take effect. Her world was spinning. She could feel her strength slipping away. She was still conscious, but she no longer had control of her own body.

The two men, who were the only others in the room now, removed her clothes and bathed her in the pool. After that, they bandaged her wounds, causing much pain on her part. They did not do anything for the terrible sunburn slowly peeling the flesh of her back.

Once her wounds were wrapped in clean linen, the two men put the dress on her, tying the corset tightly.

While they worked, her head started to clear. By the time she was completely covered, her mind was clear again, albeit exhausted.

Now that she could think, she tried to ask questions of them. At first they did not answer, for they were surprised that she was already free of the drug.

Eventually, one of them answered her question about the kidnapping of the elf-maids from Imladris. "The High Master wants someone. He thought she would be in Imladris."

"Is that why they were picking out specific people?" she asked curiously.

"I would assume so. They haven't told us anything."

"Why did they choose me?" she asked.

"Because you fit whatever description Overseer Gwath was given, or because he…wants you. He has a history of many women…no elves."

"Did you say Overseer _Gwath_?" she asked with emphasis on the last word.

"Yes, why?"

"Gwath means Shade…No!" The last word was said with disbelieving bluntness. She knew what he was. "Oh my…"

"What? Did we hit something?" one of them asked.

"No…Your Overseer is not what he seems…"

"We already know that, Miss, we just do not know _what_ he is."

"Well I do…" She said nothing more.

One of the men retrieved a mask from the table, a beautiful, golden mask. The other man took the mask from him and placed it on her face. It hid the upper half of her face artfully.

As he was in the process of tying the strings of the mask, the door opened and Gwath walked in saying, "Do not put that mask on yet!"

Quickly, both of the men backed away from the elf-maid, bowing at the same time.

"Please let me go! I am no use to you!" she pleaded.

"Do not be so sure," he said, quickly walking over to her to kneel beside her.

"So that you can trade me or have your way with me?" you thought. Quickly, he pulled the mask off and threw it away, looking carefully at her as she wavered unsteadily with weakness. His face was barely even two inches from the immortal's.

Before anything else, he looked at the elf-maid's fine hair, feeling the texture carefully. He continued there for several seconds before continuing on.

Next, he reached out with a lingeringly slow hand and brushed his cold, sensitive fingertips across her pale face and neck, all the way down to the low-cut fabric of the gown. His face and especially his eyes spoke volumes of passion and lust, telling of past lasciviousness.

To occupy his…appetite, he slowly moved his eyes up along her face to her eyes. Once there, his eyes froze in place, looking straight into her deep, deep green eyes. His maroon eyes were a fire, hot and passionate; his lips parted slightly.

After more than twice as long as before, he broke his eyes away hesitantly. Slowly, he began to walk around her, carefully avoiding her eyes. After only two circuits, he walked out of the room saying, "Most acceptable."

One of the men quickly hurried back to the mask and picked it up. He placed it over her face and tied it carefully.

Quickly, they picked her up again, always supporting the majority of her weight, and brought her to a grand entryway of shining black stone with several golden statues. There was a main floor of plain, black stone, then a grand staircase to a large landing that split off into two smaller staircases. There were two statues at each staircase landing. The two smaller staircases went off into the tower in separate hallways, identical to all of the others she had been through.

On the main floor, many people danced in fine, darkly colored clothing around the floor. The same man with maroon eyes and red hair, Gwath, stood in a corner, watching the proceedings while simultaneously looking irritated. Another man, Fuinur, stood next to the one who had tortured her. He had dark eyes and very gray hair, and he appeared to be in his 40's or 50's in solar years.

Only the first man noticed her entrance, and he merely glanced quickly at them and made a small motion with his hand that they should approach, or to put it better, the two men could drag her closer as she tried to maintain some semblance of walking under her own power.

Slowly, the two men dragged her over to that corner. It was not that she was hard to carry, they were just afraid to come any closer to their mysterious leader who had the nerve to speak to the Lord of the Dark Tower.

When they came within ten feet of the two powerful men, the man she did not recognize glanced at them quickly, then looked back to the other man. As he realized what he had seen, his eyes flicked back to her and stayed there, transfixed on the elf-maid coming toward him. He carefully watched every movement her exhausted body made as the guards brought her to the obviously important men. The other man, the maroon-eyed one, watched his reaction carefully.

The maroon-eyed man brought the other man's attention back to him craftily. He whispered hurriedly to the older-looking man. The second man nodded and turned his attention back to the elf-maiden, an almost hungry expression on his face. In colour, his face was rather tan.

Quickly, Gwath made a chopping motion with his hand and stepped forward to dance with her. Easily and quickly, he swept her into a dance, watching every move she made.

As they danced, she asked him, "Why do you need me?" He did not answer. "Are you going to trade me?"

"Yes," he stated simply.

"And what are you getting in return?" she asked, seething.

"An army."

"But you do not want to trade me?" she asked shrewdly.

"I must trade you."

"But you do not _want_ to?" she asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"You need to ask?" He asked, raising a single eyebrow in surprise. She knew exactly what it was that he wanted. Every gesture of his was lascivious.

When the dance ended, Gwath walked her back over to the unknown man.

The unknown man elegantly held his hand out for her to take. One of the guards let go of her hand, allowing her to gracefully place her hand in his. She tried not to show her wariness.

Gracefully, he swept her away onto the dance floor, putting his hand on her waist to keep her weight supported. Gracefully, he led her into a fast-paced waltz.

Part way through a second, slightly slower song, the musicians abruptly stopped playing, and many people turned toward the symmetrical upper staircase on the right. The man leading her stopped and turned aw well. They were conveniently right in the center of the floor, in a direct line of sight of everyone up there.

She turned quickly on her toe to see a figure dressed in ornate, black clothes with a red cloak unfurled behind him. His hair was black, but his skin was as pale as hers was. He wore a white mask shaped like a human skull. This facade, as is the purpose of masks, disguised the identity of the person. On this masked person's head was an iron circlet. In his shadow, she could almost picture on his head the iron crown shining with the light of the three silmarilli.

Very slowly, he walked down the staircase. While he walked across the upper landing toward the largest staircase, he said in a loud, clear voice to all in the room, 'Have you missed me, my Lords?"

He soon reached the largest, grandest staircase due to his long, quick stride. He continued down the next staircase saying, "Did you think that I had left you for good?" When he said that, the man she was standing by shoved her roughly bend his body and kept one hand firmly grasping her upper arm.

The image of red death continued his advance and noticed her behind the other man's body, being shielded from his view. He quickened his pace and said indignantly, "Unhand her!" He held his hand out toward her in a way that offered and indeed promised help and comfort.

When she heard his exclamation, the elf-maiden looked up at this strange man with hope. The man holding her, however, glanced briefly at her before changing his glance to glare at the image of death.

Once more, but quieter this time, he said darkly and threateningly, "Unhand her!" His voice had the seal of promise that he WOULD hurt anyone that harmed her.

Slowly, the elf-maiden reached out her hand and took a step toward the image of death. She could quite easily admit that she was reluctant to go any closer to one who chose to dress as the personification of so deadly a disease, for humans. Yet this man's voice alone had sent her into a sort of trance from which she herself could not escape.

Before she could take another step, a hand grabbed her outreaching arm and pulled it away from the figure on the staircase, obviously ready to take her away from him. His strong arms wrapped firmly around her, restraining her from any course of action.

Before he could harm her with his unnatural, giant-like strength, the man in scarlet was suddenly on the other side of the man from her. His hand was on the other man's shoulder in a firm grasp. His other hand was flying toward the nearly bald man's face. It connected with a thick crunch as his nose broke. Blood spilled all over, gathering in small pools at his feet. The man stumbled back blindly and released his grip on her slight body.

Abruptly, a shockingly cold hand grasped her around her waist and pulled her away from the nearly bald man to the stairs. His other hand wrapped around her as well, offering help and comfort when no one else would give anything near the sympathy she needed at this dreadful time.

More quietly, he said darkly and very, very threateningly to the man he had just attacked, "Keep your hands off of her!"

The other man held his bleeding, broken nose in one, uninjured hand, for now. Angrily, he said to the man who had just hit him with such effective force, "I have a right to protect my property!" As he said the last word very indignantly, he pointed toward the elf-maid forcefully.

"_Lyo chebant?"_ (Your property?) she said with disgust and indignation in her tone. She broke away from the Red Death and walked toward him with an outraged yet still cold expression on her face. It appeared to that man as if one second she was standing still and the next second her fist was suddenly flying at his face with great speed.

Unfortunately for him, the man's hand was in the path of her fist; her punch connected with it and broke the hand with a loud crunch and several pops. She also broke the nose in another place, making his nose even more warped. Elegantly, she turned on her toe back to the man in red and inclined her head slightly, blinking very deliberately to show how satisfying that was for her.

Not so slowly as before, the elf-maid walked warily toward the man in red with a measured, even pace. She carefully walked up the bottom couple steps very slowly. From there, she stopped at the next step, still two or three stairs down from this strange new apparition. She stared up at the image of death with a puzzled look in her eyes.

As he saw that look in her eyes, the person she faced gracefully closed his hand, extinguishing the flame somehow at the same time. He carefully yet charmingly lifted his hand and rested it lightly on her shoulder right by the neck.

When she had almost reached him, she stretched out her hand and somewhat hesitantly placed her hand in his, jumping slightly at the icy cold touch of his fair hand.

Quickly, he led her gently yet firmly up the two staircases and through the plain, dim hallway toward the far side of Dol Guldur, along the outer edge. He glanced back often at her tenderly. As they walked very quickly, she said to him expertly and slightly suspiciously, "Golodhim namaanlye." (I know who you are.) Her hand tightened in his own iron-like clasp as she said the last word.

"Say it," he said darkly and a little desolately.

As he spoke, her breathe became uneven as if she did not want to say his terrible name.

"Say it," he said darkly and somewhat furiously.

"_Nalye Morgoth_," (You are Morgoth) she said quietly in a terrified tone, almost disbelieving that it could possibly be _him._

His only answer was an increase in both his speed and his stride. At this point, she was practically running to keep up with him. He still appeared to be walking.

"_Manwe anona lye. Lye enquanta coire ar tintiluva i Eldar. __Lye er bele turuva Endor._ Why?"(Manwe forgave you. Yet you still plotted against him and planned to seduce the Eldar so that you alone could rule Endor.) she asked almost disgustedly. Her tone was also rather puzzled and hinted at previous tenderness that no one but them would remember.

She gasped quite audibly as she finished her appalled statement. He was not sure if it was because she had found his purpose for helping her or because she was that badly hurt. The former was correct, though he did not know it. He could not possibly know how quickly her brain sorted through possibilities for the logical answer.

Abruptly, he stopped in a particularly dark region of the current corridor. She ran into him before she could stop her forward momentum. He caught her quickly before she fell and held her lightly in his own arms, grasping near the top of her arms. It was practically effortless for him to hold up her entire weight using just the colossal might of his arms.

Quite affectionately, he said to her, "I am leaving for Isengard soon. I _can not_ protect you when I am there. You can come with me, though." As he spoke, he put one hand on her cheek soothingly. His other hand supported all of her with truly apparent ease.

"_Im firnuva an kele uar lye_!" (I would rather die!) she said with revulsion and distaste.

"You may just get that wish. They will kill you, very painfully and slowly, if I leave you here," he said, willing her to understand the depth of his own feelings or remember the past she seemed to have forgotten. He wished for her to think of even just one of the many memories they had shared in their happy past in the Elder Days, now long gone into the mists of time.

"_Golodhim_," (I know) she said solemnly.

"Please, Sirith. Do you really want to die?" he asked her pleadingly and rather sadly as well.

"_Esse lye im?"_ (What did you call me?) she asked, furrowing her eyebrows because she couldn't understand his almost eager attitude.

"Do you prefer Aralin?" he asked, inclining his head in puzzled curiosity.

"_No, ar lye golodh imo esse yassen_?" (No, but how did you know my name?) she asked, confused by his apparent knowledge of all of her different names and what they wanted her for besides.

"Do you not remember me?" he asked, now becoming puzzled in his on turn.

"_No. Na im?"_ (No. Should I?) she asked. It was quite obvious now that he believed that they had met before far previous to this time.

As she finished speaking, his form wavered. It switched between his present form and another, larger structure.

Within a few seconds, his form solidified into the huge, dark form, heavily armored and very muscular. On his head was a dark iron crown, the very one she had envisioned on the head of his shadow, the shadow of his past. This crown had three indentations in the front where the silmarilli had been before and would never be again. This dark, huge form was the other form that she had know Morgoth by and the one he had shown her after she had discovered his identity.

From the way his form had wavered, she thought that he hadn't used this form in a long time and wasn't able to hold it for so long yet. Her other theory was that her not remember something about him had astonished him so much that his concentration had wavered and his form had changed back. In short, she gasped loudly, aghast.

"Do you really want to die?" he asked sadly and very pleadingly.

"_Rimbe im na nev lye_," (More than I want to be with you,) she said disgustedly.

He sighed and pulled her in closer to his chest. He moved his lips to her ear and carefully whispered, "Very well, Sirith."

He held her in his embrace for a few seconds, until she cried out from pain and agony.

Immediately, he asked, "What is it?"

"They whipped me!" she gasped between waves of pain.

Immediately, he released her from his embrace and began to guide her quickly down the shadowy corridors on the interior of Dol Guldur.

As he led her along, the pain of her injuries became too great to handle and she blacked out. Before her head hit the stone floor, he scooped her up in his arms and kept walking from the darkness of the shadows, cradling her head against his own, armored chest.

He brought her as quickly as he could to the safest place he knew. He brought her to his own quarters where he could always guard her and hide her.

When he reached his own quarters, he laid her down gently on his bed before returning to the letter he was writing in the small study adjoining his bedroom. He sent the letter to Imladris to inform the elves that the elf-maid was in safe hands and out of harm's way.

As soon as he had finished his letter, he had some guards get some medicine for her sunburns on her back.

As soon as he had those medicines in his possession, he turned her over so that she was lying on her back. Then, he unlaced her bodice and dress.

Once he had that clothing undone and pulled down to uncover her burns but still maintaining modesty, he rubbed the medicinal herb into the huge burn on her back. Her injured skin soaked up the medicine readily enough, but she flinched, even unconscious, as he touched the burns. It was terrible for him to see her in such pain.

Once that was finished, he stood and stared at her from the doorway into the supplementary room. As he watched over her, he spoke to himself.

_Infantuation,_

_A plague and yet my blessing_

_You made me alive_

_Do you remember_

_Our courtship in days gone by?_

_And I ruined it._

Now as he spoke, he walked silently to her side. He sat carefully by her side, trying not to let too much of his weight disturb the surface of the bed. That would disturb her, which he did not wish to do.

_Our love was once great_

_A blissful, wonderful time_

_I remember_

On the last line, he gently smoothed her hair away from her face with his large, muscular hand.

_I tried to crush love_

_But my heart would not let me_

_I shall not harm you._

During this stanza, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and very gently and carefully stroked her cheekbones with his dark, armored thumbs.

_I can feel my heart_

_Only when you are near me_

_How quickly it beats!_

In the following stanza, he slowly and gently slid his hands down along her body to her neck, shoulders, and arms. He stopped there and gripped them firmly, yet still cautiously, as if he was afraid of something other than merely waking her.

_So why are you here?_

_What purpose could fate have now?_

_To send you back here?_

_You came back to me_

_You will not leave me again_

_I'd die without you_

_But wait, you love _him

_He holds your heart and knows not_

_Why can't you love me?_

By the final phrase, he meant that he would do all within his power to win her, and he was being optimistic by saying that he would win her. He also knew that previously, there was no man in her life, so he had a much higher chance of success.

Then, he said, "While I was traveling here to be with you, I whispered of you and my love for you to give myself hope that you were here."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

During the night, Sirith began to toss and turn in her sleep. Her sleep was rather noisy at this point, as she began to talk and even scream in her sleep. These same sounds woke Morgoth.

At first he panicked, thinking someone was there to take Sirith from him, as his worst nightmares depicted. When he noticed that no one, but the two of them, was there, he instantly relaxed, yet he was still tense. Quickly, he ran quietly to the other room to check on the injured elf-maid, curious of what caused her to make such frightful sounds.

Instantly upon seeing her in such a state of discomfort, he slid onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her. He stroked her hair and skin while holding her until she was no longer tossing and turning. His guess was that she was having a nightmare, but he obviously couldn't be sure. It appeared that way, but what things appear to be may not necessarily be what is.

Very soon after she had stopped tossing and turning, she began to tremble violently. Soon after that, she started to thrash back and forth. Through this he held her in his strong grip, keeping her on the bed and away from harm.

After awhile, she sank into a deeper, more relaxed sleep. When this change occurred, Melkor carefully disentangled himself from her, trying not to wake her.

As he crept silently back to the study to wait, he glanced back to her and said tenderly, "Sleep well, my one and only love, daughter of a long-forsaken land. When you wake, remember me."

oooooooo

Much later, Morgoth had fallen asleep in the study vacillating which form to wake her in. He had already sent the completed letter to Imladris. The elf-maid was still unconscious in the small bed. She was still shocked from seeing him alive and not in the void.

The door to the chamber opened very quietly. Two very odd men slipped inside. One of them was very pale and had aquiline features. His ears and teeth were very pointed. This man walked over to the bed absolutely silently. Despite his silence, Sirith sensed his presence and woke.

She immediately noticed the strange, black-clad man walking toward her and shrank back from him. He continued to advance as she pulled her legs in toward her body.

Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed with his torso facing her. Gracefully, he leaned in toward her. She shrank back against the wall and said, "Stay away from me!"

This woke Morgoth in the next room. He immediately sprang up and ran into the other room.

The new man with aquiline features looked up at Morgoth as he entered and smiled, peeling his upper lip back from his teeth to show long, sharp canines.

"Help me!" she said pleadingly to Morgoth. She was going to say more, but the new man swiftly bent over her and started to kiss her neck.

Before she could push him away, she first felt his teeth on the skin of her neck, about to puncture her skin and draw out the blood. Just before his teeth punctured her skin, Morgoth knocked the man over and stabbed him in the heart, killing him.

As he was checking to make sure the man (thing) was truly dead, Sirith looked over at the other man. He was walking toward her.

As he picked her up, she asked weakly, "What happened?"

"That was a vampire. In fact, it was the _last_ vampire. He would have sucked your blood. I just wanted to see if it could get through Morgoth's defenses. Obviously, it couldn't," he said, unconcerned about what he gave away.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked just as weakly.

The man answered, "I am taking you to your new captor."

"Who?"

"He is Fuinur. He rules a small parcel of land near Ered Mithrin. He works his people like slaves," said one of the men.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"I used to live there."

"Why are you working for Saruman?" she asked as they rounded a corner to see a long hallway ending in a staircase.

"He will kill our families if we don't," answered the second man.

"I will not ask you to risk your family to help me. I thank you for this information."

"You are most welcome, elf-maid," one of them said.

They brought her down to the grand entryway. Near the stairs into the prison of Dol Guldur, about twenty men stood with a horse at their side. The man who had been interested in her was there as well, at the head of the column. He looked drunk.

He smiled when he saw her and walked over to her. When he reached her, he bent down and kissed her cheek roughly before putting his rough lips at her ear to say, "You will like where we are going. Just wait for your turn while I take care of some business." Once he had said that, he quickly swooped in and kissed her roughly on the lips.

Right when he did that, she drove her knee up between his legs, then backed up while wiping her face off to rid herself of the disgusting saliva that had resulted from his rough kiss.

The man, Fuinur, on the other hand stumbled back with agony written on his face. He angrily motioned them towards a man with two horses near him. As they approached him, everyone in the column except that man mounted their horses.

The man they approached handed one of them the reigns to the white horse he had. The other horse was a neutral brown in color. Gracefully, the man with the two horses grasped her waist and lifted her up into the saddle of the white steed. The man then proceeded to quickly mount the remaining steed and the column rode off, away from the dark prison into the forest.

The column rode first through the dark forest of southern Mirkwood, traveling west. They continued west from the border of Mirkwood to Anduin. They would then follow the river north to the clear, mountain air of the Ered Mithrin. Once there, they would follow a small trail through the mountains to Fuinur's small, overworked realm.

Every night at the campfire, the elf-maid was given a harp to play and accompany with her voice. Each night she sang for the men, disgusting as they were in their habits to her. She was careful to only sing well-known songs to the unruly men. She sang the Lay of Luthien, the Lay of Nimrodel, and many other popular songs.

As she sang she noticed how the same men tended to be either drunk or sober each night.

One in particular caught her eye as appearing more patient, caring, and noble than all of the others, but he was one of the lowest ranks among the men, the man that took care of the other men's armor and weapons who was actually around 30 solar years old. Unfortunately, he was not allowed to communicate in any way to her, so she found one night.

A lot of the time, the men talked of their commander. With that, she learned that he was insatiable...

ooooooooo

One day as the group traveled up the Anduin on their purchased boats, the two men- one in front and one behind- that steered and propelled the boat she rode in were having an argument. She was too tired and worn from her injuries to pay attention to what the subject of their disagreement was. They kept their verbal battle going for quite some time. She ignored them the whole while in favor of studying her surroundings. Then, the man behind her raised a hand to strike the man in front of her.

This man missed and hit her instead. The unexpected blow sent her tumbling into the clear water. Unfortunately, her hands and feet were tied very firmly, which prevented her from merely swimming to the surface as she would have under other circumstances.

She stayed down under the surface for a long time- over a minute- before she heard a splash of something or someone going into the water. By this time, she was running out of air very quickly. She lost consciousness seconds after she heard the splash.

Merely seconds after she passed out, a pair of strong hands grabbed her and pulled her to the surface. Soon after, she was hauled into a boat by the owner of those hands. A cold hand quickly felt at her neck for a pulse, which he found.

More than ten seconds after he removed his hand, she regained consciousness, coughing up water. When she opened her eyes, she flinched away from a figure looming over her. Then, the slender figure turned to look at her. Fuinur's eyes burned with fury as he bent down to help her sit up (once she had finished coughing up the water she had breathed in).

He gently put a hand on her back. Then, he looked up at the people in that boat and the one next to it. He asked them in a loud, projecting voice that was livid in tone, "Who did this?"

The seconds ticked by slowly. After five seconds had passed of him glaring at his men, he said, "None of you will eat until I know who did this!"

After he said that, only a couple of seconds passed before a man spoke up saying, "It was them!" He pointed back one boat at the very men who had been arguing.

"If any of you _ever_ endanger her, you will meet a very _sticky_ end!" he said to them, putting feeling in every word.

From that day on, she always rode in the same boat as Fuinur.


	8. Chapter 7

_I slightly altered the lyrics from Andrew Lloyd Webber's _The Phantom of the Opera_ for this part._

**Chapter Seven**

It took the party several days to even reach the edge of Mirkwood. From there, the place they reached the Anduin was at a place where the river took a large bend to the west. It brought the river right up to the edge of Lothlorien. Everyone in the company was adamant that they not enter the 'Elf Wood', especially not with an elf as their prisoner. They appeared very superstitious.

On the following day, a large storm appeared on the horizon, approaching quickly. It looked like it would get very windy, very cold, and would coat the ground with several feet of snow. It would be a blizzard.

On this day, they were spanning the length of the gigantic western bend Anduin took. The river came within a hundred yards of the welcoming trees of the Golden Wood. The 'Lord' made the mistake of ordering his men to pull in their purchased boats for the night on the west bank of the river. This opportunity was too good for her to give up.

That night, while she was sitting in the tent they gave her, a man came in. It was the normal way he came in when he would bring her the harp she would sing to. However, this time he did not hold a harp, or any other instrument for that matter. Instead, he held a small, black cloth bundle.

The man she had become accustomed to seeing said, "You will be dining with the Lord tonight. He requests you wear this."

"You can tell him that I am disinclined to acquiesce to his request."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have said request. He demanded it."

"Very well," Sirith said reluctantly and very coldly. She took the black bundle more forcefully than necessary and inclined her head. It was quite obvious that she wanted him to leave. He quickly backed out with a fearful look on his face.

As he left, Sirith noticed that the air was very calm. It was the calm before the storm.

Frustratedly, she began to change into the provided garment- no- garments. Immediately she noticed a few things.

Firstly, there was a little, black slip in this bundle as well as the black dress. The slip was made of lace and satin (on the corset part). The lace was very sheer, even to the point that she could see her breasts easily. It also did not go nearly far enough down. It ended at mid-thigh.

She put that inadequate slip on, then noticed several things about the dress itself as she moved on to that.

Firstly, the garment had no sleeves. In the coming storm, it would be rather cold to some less immune to temperature than her.

Secondly, the garment thankfully had the standard length of a gown. This, at least, was helpful to her courage. Otherwise, she would hardly have dared to leave the confines of this tent.

Thirdly, the material was very rich and voluptuous in that it was slightly sheerer than she would like. If this garment was much sheerer than this, she, once again, would not have dared to leave her tent.

Fourthly, the shoulders of the dress were barely high enough on her shoulders to keep the dress up. With any wind or even a light breeze, the fabric would easily slip over her shoulders. Someone placing their hands on her shoulders would likely have a similar effect.

Fifth and finally, the material of the dress was contoured for her body so that it clung to her along the entire torso. It was rather similar to a brassiere in the way it rested against her slender waist.

With a dress like this provided for her, she had an idea of what he wanted to do, but she wouldn't let him. She would use this chance to escape, although she would have to be somewhat cautious in her handling of this delicate dress.

Thankfully, that was not the only outer garment in the bundle. There was also a cloak made of rather heavy, black material, probably because there was a storm approaching. This cloak could easily wrap around her slender form more than once. It was really quite voluminous.

Another possible reason would be that it was winter, very cold out, and there was a storm coming. She was rather oblivious to all but the most extreme temperatures. There were yet more possible reasons for providing a cloak, but she didn't want to think of them all, as they were infinitely varied.

Right when she had the cloak on, the man came back in with his eyes lowered and beckoned for her to follow him, with another guard following her, of course.

He led her toward a large, grand tent; this was the best there was in their camp. Presumably, this was where 'Lord' Fuinur was.

When they reached the tent, he held the tent flap open and gestured grandly for Sirith to go in. He followed her inside and took her cloak from her, hanging it on a hook carved from the tent frame. As soon as he was done with that, he walked out of the tent.

As soon as he was out of the tent, the man tied the tent flaps together so that the elf could not easily get out.

Now, she turned her attention to what was inside the tent. There was a small, makeshift, wooden table set for dinner for two people, complete with candlesticks. Fuinur was sitting in the place opposite from her. The other chair was empty. He seemed to have…perked up as soon as she came in.

He turned to look at her as soon as the man was gone and said with a cunning, lascivious smile, "Welcome to my tent. Come here." The second was an order accompanied by a gesture to sit down.

Sirith slowly and warily sat, watching him suspiciously the whole time. "Please, eat," he said, gesturing to the food between them.

Carefully, she picked up a piece of bread and ate it. Nonchalantly, he picked up a single fruit and bit into it, carefully keeping his eyes off her.

When she had finished her bread, he said, "Try the wine. It is exquisite." As he said that, he poured some wine into her glass, filling it.

Daintily, she picked up her glass and drained it, surprised by the potency of it. "Have some more," he said, filling her glass again.

Their dinner continued as such for some time, Fuinur urging her to drink more wine while he intoxicated himself.

Finally, they finished their meal in tense silence, both of them listening to the growing winds outside. At that point, Fuinur clapped his hands together, apparently signing for his men to come in.

Sirith stared at them suspiciously for several seconds before returning her attention to Fuinur. It was a mistake.

The two men grabbed her wrists and pulled her forcibly up and away from the table. They held her there while she struggled and Fuinur walked slowly toward her, savoring his success prematurely.

Fuinur walked around her, then stopped directly behind her. He eagerly moved his hands to the laces that held her dress on, caressing her. He quickly unlaced them despite how Sirith struggled even more to free herself.

When her dress was unlaced, he gently massaged her back and shoulders, saying, "Relax." His massaging hands started to caress her, sliding the straps off her shoulders and letting the dress fall to the floor.

After awhile, Fuinur turned to one of the men and nodded. Immediately, those two men pulled her to the bed that stood at one side of the tent.

They tied silken ropes very securely to Sirith's wrists. These ropes were connected to iron rings on the bed frame. Thus imprisoned, she could not get off the bed.

Once their task was completed, the two men made a hasty escape from the tent.

Fuinur walked in confidently, his manner practically dripping lust, emanating it. He climbed on top of her and tried to kiss her.

Before he did that, she brought her knees up to her chest and kicked him off her. He landed with a resounding thump on the ground, then quickly crawled onto her again and pinned her to the bed with his knees.

He was about to use her, but he heard men yelling outside. Quickly, he jumped off her and ran outside into the howling wind.

Outside, his men tried to defend themselves against the skillful strikes of the Lothlorien elves that attacked their camp. Men were dropping right and left, yet not a single had fallen so far.

Seeing most of his men already dead at the elves' hands, he ran back into the tent to retrieve the most valuable treasure in the camp and run. The leader of the elves, Haldir, saw Fuinur run into the tent and, runs after him, wondering what could possibly be so valuable to save.

Fuinur ran straight to the bed and drew his knife. He raised his weapon to cut one of the two ropes holding Sirith, but he was struck down by an arrow in his back before he could let his stroke fall. The rather obscure man fell to the ground, dead.

Immediately, Sirith jumped off the bed, hiding from the newcomer's view behind the bed. She hadn't run because she was working on the knot that held her other wrist.

As soon as Fuinur's body was out of the way, Haldir saw that it was Sirith that was imprisoned. Immediately, he ran to her, backing off when she flinched away in fear. "Si na im!" (It is me!) he said quickly, seeing her brandishing Fuinur's dagger.

She relaxed and smiled, recognizing him quickly. Sirith allowed him to come near her and cut the silk rope attaching her to the bed.

As soon as she was loose, Haldir gathered her into his arms, comforting her. He whispered to her, "_Nalye ufanhuine si."_ (You are safe now.)

After she had been there for a few seconds, he picked her up, covering her with his own cloak to protect her from the wind; he carried her outside to the group of elves he commanded. They had finished scouring the camp for survivors or anything worth salvaging.

Once there, he gave new orders to his men. 1) return to your posts. 2) tell his two brothers that he would not be returning to _his_ post until later. They all hastened to obey, not wanting to be away from the trees for long.

As the other elves were leaving for the forest again, Haldir began to run toward Caras Galadon, taking one of the most direct routes possible.

Just before the incoming storm hit, Haldir stopped at a _talan_ he knew about to wait out the storm. If the elf-maid was out in the storm, with her half-healed wounds, her rate of healing would slow drastically, maybe even stop.

He quickly set up all of the tarps to block the wind and the snow. As soon as they were protected, he treated her wounds, bandaging them better with clean bandages. He quickly covered her with a blanket, for modesty, and sat down to wait.

ooooooooo

Around midnight, Sirith woke from a very disturbing dream where red eyes glared at her from a darkness that surrounded her. Haldir was bent over her, treating yet again a wound in her side.

At first, she did not see her friend, but the dark figure looming over her from her dream. She flinched away from his touch.

He noticed immediately that she was awake and said, "_Daro. Hi unarig eithel_." (Do not try to move yet. This wound was treated correctly and probably has an infection.)

Now that she recognized him and his voice especially, she relaxed her muscles and stopped flinching away from his touch. "_An lye, mellon. Nalin naim kelant Fuinurello?"_ (Very well, old friend. How did I get away from him?)

"_Im kir Fuinur i mogolloesse,"_ (I shot him in the back with an arrow) he assured her gently, completely allaying her fears.

"_Golodhlye_,"(I thought so, but couldn't be sure) Sirith said.

"_Uvalye queta er nevanto_?" (Will you answer one question?) Haldir asked. He had many questions for her, and none of them were easy.

"_Golodhlye im uva,"_ (You know I will) she assured him, smiling.

"Why are you dressed like that? Who wounded you so badly then treated them so crudely?" he said, his questions bursting forth and dropping like leaves off a tree in autumn.

"_Erno nevanto_," (That is more than one question) she said, smiling and closing her eyes for a second for she was amused.

"_Yes na,"_ (It is) he said, also smiling and even laughing a little.

She spoke in elvish to explain the events that had occurred to her, unable to fully express herself in English. She said, "The Nazgul that took me flew me to Dol Guldur. They held me there for over a month. You know how long it has been. They tortured me on and off for the whole time."

She stopped for a short length of time, overcome by the ghost of the pain that was still far too near. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Haldir looking at her with sympathy and worry in his clear, shining, blue eyes that she loved so much.

She continued on soon after she had mastered her emotions, saying, "After awhile, two men came to my cell and brought me to a different room. They treated my wounds and left me there for awhile. In that room, there was a different gown. Since mine was fairly well destroyed, I put it on."

"Nayes noldofana," (That makes sense) he said, nodding. His gaze was directed entirely at her, with no allowance for

"The two men came back in later and brought me to a masquerade. There, the man in charge, I do not know who, showed me to Fuinur. Apparently, I was part of a deal they had made, probably to get supplies or soldiers," she said, speculating.

"_Hi na aegnoldo,"(_These are ill tidings) Haldir said, his eyes narrowing as he thought of the implications of such a fact.

"The strangest thing happened next. A man dressed all in red with a white mask shaped like a skull started walking slowly down the stairs in the entryway. Everybody stopped to stare at him. He helped me," she said, still thoroughly surprised at that.

"_Lye hae i maan adan_,"(You found the decent person) Haldir said, smiling at something that did not surprise him one bit.

"He brought me back to his room to keep me safe, but he did nothing else than that. Later, two men took me away from there. Fuinur was bringing me to his realm. You can guess what he wanted to do," she said, disgust so plainly obvious on her face despite the warping that was caused by the pain.

"_Golodhim_," (Indeed I can) he said darkly, the muscles of his face hardening in a way that clearly stated that he was glad to have killed that man.

"Earlier this night, a man came into the tent they kept me in. He told me that Fuinur had ordered that I have dinner with him, wearing this and a dress which I am no longer in possession of," she said, her eyes going cold.

"In his tent, he unlaced the dress and took it off after our…repast. The same two men tied me to the iron rings of the bed frame, as you saw. Fuinur tried to…echantnur, but he heard his men yelling and dying. So he ran outside. You know what happened from there," she said, raising her eyebrows.

_"Hi nagoroth,"_ (That is terrible) he said, disgusted by what Fuinur had wanted.

He quickly looked back to her wounds and said, "Este si. Nalye ufanhuine si." (You should rest. You are safe now.)

"_Hannon le, imo mellon_."(Thank you, my friend) She smiled and settled in to sleep once more, resting on her side due to the gruesome wounds in her back.

Suddenly after a few seconds of silence, she screamed. Quite as suddenly as she started, she stopped and whispered in horror, "Heru kela!" (He is coming!)

"_Man? Man kela? Sirith!"_ (Who? Who is coming? Sirith!) he could get no more out of her than that, so he sat back in frustration.

While he sat, staring up, he was distracted by the leaves rustling in the high winds of the storm, just before the snow came.

After awhile, Maeglin felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, but she was sitting right next to him, and it was her hand on his shoulder. Her other hand clutched the cloak close to her body.

They quickly met eyes, Sirith's eyes showing pity that he felt so helpless…so powerless.

"Hold me, my brother. I am so cold," she said.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, using his own body heat to warm her for lack of any other heat source.

For a second, he pulled away from her to tell her that he had always loved her as a sister, but her eyes widened and she screamed, staring behind at someone else in fear.

He turned and saw a dark figure with enraged, red eyes shining brightly out from the black he wore. "_Man na le?"_ (Who are you?) he demanded.

He laughed a cold, heartless laugh and bent down to grab Haldir on the neck. The guard twisted away and tried to pull Sirith away too, only to find that she was frozen in place. The cloak had slipped from her shoulders, leaving the thin shift in plain sight. She kept whispering repeatedly, "Im na vanwa." (I am lost.)

Suddenly, the figure changed his attention from Haldir to Sirith. He bent down swiftly and grasped her by her bare shoulders.

As soon as his cold, smooth skin touched hers, she screamed a high-pitched scream, again, and fainted dead away.

He quickly bent further and pulled her up into his arms, glaring at Haldir to keep him rooted in place, but that did not work.

"_Man na le?"_ (Who are you?) he demanded, drawing his sword.

The cold laughter rang out again and the figure said in a dark, haunting voice, "I Eldar onant im i ia. Eldar ugolodh im." (The Eldar condemn me to the Void, then they can not even remember me.)

While he said that, he ran his fingers down from her neck, between her partially exposed breasts, and to the place where the fabric covered her once more. Once there, he started to unlace the rest of her shift, slowly.

"_Morgoth,"_ he whispered in absolute horror.

"_Neta, Haldir Lothlorienello. Keluva hirilo, ua nai le firnuva_," (Yes, Haldir of Lothlorien. Stay away from her or you may never wake up,) he suggested in his resonant voice.

"_Nath! Le uethiruva imello!"_ (No! You'll not take her from me!) he exclaimed, lunging at Morgoth. His sword connected, but only just. The former Vala cried out, dropping the elf-maiden he cared for so much.

Suddenly, he vanished, leaving Haldir to rush over to Sirith and care for her. First, he pulled her shift back up and laced it again. Then, he finished tending her wounds.

They had to wait through the rest of the night and the entire day after that.

During that day, Sirith woke, screaming. Haldir was already at her side, pulling her into his embrace saying, "_Sirith! Si na hi?"_ (Sirith! What is it?)

"Heru!"(_Him_!)

"_Heru kelant_," (He is gone,) he said reassuringly.

"_Heru faroth _uva,_"_ (He _will_ be back,) she said, extremely certain of what she was saying.

"_Si le golodh?"_ (What do you mean?)

She started to sing in Westron, unable to express herself any other way but this song she knew.

Friend, I've been there

To his world of unending night.

To a world where the daylight

Dissolves into darkness, darkness.

Friend, I've seen him.

Can I ever forget that sight?

Can I ever escape from that face

So distorted in form it was

Hardly a face in that darkness, darkness

But his voice filled my spirit

With a strange sweet sound

In the night there was music in my mind

And through music

My soul began to sigh.

And I heard as I've never heard before.

Yet in his eyes,

All the sadness of the world

Those bleeding eyes

That both hated and adored…

"_Na hi maan?"_ (Is it true?)

"_Neta_." (Completely.)

"_A, Sirith. __Im din lo."_ (Oh, Sirith. I am so sorry.) She was already asleep again, still affected by the terror of Morgoth.

Once the storm was over, he brought her quickly to Caras Galadon. She was unconscious the whole way.


	9. Chapter 8

_There are lyrics for the movie music in this one._

**Chapter Eight**

As the Fellowship approached Lothlorien from the northwest, a scout brought an injured elf into Caras Galadon, the capitol of Lorien. The elf he brought, Sirith, was badly injured and dressed in a loosely fitting sleeveless black gown. The scout, Haldir, quickly took her to the healer. Haste was obvious in his steps and his glance.

As he walked quickly yet smoothly, he showed intense relief on his face, knowing that her suffering was almost at an end. Sirith had been his friend for a very long time, over a thousand years in fact. She had visited him at his post of the outskirts of the Golden Wood often during the time they had been friends. Ever since he had heard of her kidnapping by orcs, he had been very worried about her, primarily because she might not be alive.

The healer's face went blank when Haldir entered. Quickly, he told Haldir to inform Celeborn and Galadriel of Sirith's arrival and current condition, unconscious but mending. One of the few healers on Middle Earth capable of tending such injuries then began his work on the injured elf. Haldir delivered his message to the Lord and Lady. From there, he went back to his post, confident that Sirith would live.

Two days later, Haldir brought the Fellowship of the Ring, no longer containing Gandalf, to Caras Galadon, the heart of elvendom on Middle Earth. The sentry had told Legolas of the current condition of their friend. They both already knew that every other elf-maid that had originally been taken had long since been recovered.

All of this, he told Legolas when they first met on the talan Haldir shared with his brothers, which formed their post near the edge of the Golden Wood. The young elven prince became anxious to confirm this, and was relieved to finally be arriving in Lothloriendorinan. Sirith was not just a friend to him. Before he left Mirkwood, he had told his father, the Elven King Thranduil, that he was going to ask for her hand:

_Legolas slowly approached his father who sat on his beautiful throne in the throne room of the Elven Hall in Mirkwood._

_ Hesitantly, Legolas whispered into Thranduil's ear, "_Adar, met pedath. Er_." (Father, we must speak. Alone)_

_ Immediately and without hesitation, the Elven King sent away everyone else in the throne room, be they musicians, guards, servants, or nobles._

_ Next, he turned to his son and asked, "_Legolas, lyo golodh_? (What is it, Legolas?)_

_ "_Adar, lyo hiril naImladriso,"_ (Father, she is going to be there,) he said._

_ "_Man na Imladriso_?" (Who is going to be where?) the King asked, wanting more elaboration into the meaning of this…intrusion._

_ "_Sirith Aralin_," Legolas said with poorly disguised adoration in his voice. "_Sirith na Imladriso."_ (She will be at Imladris.)_

_ "_Hiril i bril heno ar menelui lammen_?" (She of the glistening eyes and angelic voice?) Thranduil asked, amused._

_ "_Neta…"_ (Yes…) he paused there, trying to find the right words. "_Im nath rigath hirilo boro_." (I am going to ask her for her hand.)_

_ "_Nath_?" (What?) Thranduil exclaimed, hardly believing his own ears._

_"_Sirith na varda vanant mellon. Im mel Sirith,"(_She is more than a friend to me. I love her,) he said longingly._

_ "_Im ulastuva hi! Meto minya erost ris. Tira loa enpedo," _(I will not permit this! We have more pressing business to attend to. Wait a few years, then try again,) the King said._

_ Before Legolas could say any more on the matter, his father summoned all of the musicians, servants, nobles, and guards back into the throne room._

_ Sorrowfully, Legolas left, feeling quite downtrodden at this denial of consent._

Now, he always carried with him the all too precious ring that represented his hope for happiness. He thought that he and the rest of the Fellowship were safe from orcs, and worse things, because they were in the Golden Wood. He was right with the Fellowship, but Sirith was not safe, would never be safe.

After the Fellowship met with the Lord and Lady, they were given a place to stay in Caras Galadhon. Legolas stayed behind while the others went to camp.

"Since Sirith's father is dead, you two are the closest she has to parents. So…" Legolas stopped talking here.

"There is something you wish to ask," Celeborn said.

"Yes. Might I have your permission to ask for her hand?" the Prince asked. He hastily added, "I know she was considered a commoner and I am a Prince, but I love her. When I came to Imladris, I was going to ask her there, but I learned that she had been kidnapped. I was worried out of my mind for her, but I went with the Fellowship, hoping to make a difference if the woman I loved was gone. Now, my hope is rekindled."

"Legolas, there is something you must know, but first you must swear not to reveal this to anyone. This secret has been kept from everyone, including Sirith," Galadriel said.

"I swear," Legolas said quickly, curious about what this secret was.

"Sirith is the daughter of Finduilas and Gwindor. She is royal, more than you, more than almost every elf alive now. However, she suffered such severe trauma at the end of the Second Age that she chose to forget her past and begin anew with complete amnesia of her life prior. She does not know that her Grandfather was a Noldor Prince. It is not you that would be stooping to ask her, but she. She would stoop to accept, though she knows it not," Galadriel said slowly.

Legolas could say nothing. Such knowledge could not be easily digested. _Sirith, a princess!_

"Also, you could not have missed that she is a rare beauty. Many more must then pursue her. You must win her from the others," Celeborn said, looking into Legolas's eyes that were still filled with shock.

"Is that a yes?" Legolas asked eagerly, finally getting over his shock.

"Yes, Prince of Mirkwood. You may pursue the Princess of the Noldor," Galadriel said, smiling as pure joy spread of Legolas's face.

"_Hannon le!"_ (Thank you) he practically yelled. He ran back down the stairs to the camp where the rest of the Fellowship sat, down-trodden.

"Why so happy, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, looking at the elf with suspicion in his eyes.

"There is hope for the elven people once more!" Legolas exclaimed, leaping for joy.

The rest of the fellowship noticed this merry outburst and gave the Elven Prince strange looks.

"I'll be back soon enough, Aragorn. No need to worry," Legolas said, dashing off again.

Legolas sought out the healer and Sirith, eager to hear what she would say. The healer, upon hearing Legolas's entrance, rose from beside Sirith's bedside. Sirith lay on the bed with her back facing up. Her arms were at her side. Her back was visible because the single sheet was folded down to her lower back.

As he rose, the healer took up a medium size cloth and wiped his hand on it. His hand had been wet with a slimy-looking, clear liquid. The same liquid was slathered all along every one of Sirith's visible burns. This made the elf rather worried about his friend.

While the healer walked away from the bedside, two apprentices pulled the sheets back up then turned her around so she laid on her back.

As the healer approached the elven prince, Legolas asked, "_Engwana Sirith?" _(How is she) with a concerned glance at the bed behind the other elf.

"None of her wounds are healing well. There are several wounds that will not close. I suspect that these wounds have been poisoned. I have never seen anything like it, though. She has a bruised rib as well. She has not been conscious since she arrived, which worries me. She may not be able to heal," the healer answered, stress written into every line of his face.

"I just applied some medicine," he held up the somewhat slimy cloth, "to her burns to keep the pain down and to aid in the healing process, but it may not be enough." He slowly motioned Legolas over to her bedside.

"What did they do to her?" Legolas exclaimed quietly when the two of them had come closer to Sirith's bedside. Clearly visible all over her body were bandages and wounds, almost all very bloody.

"As far as I can tell, she was tortured for a very long time and with many different methods. Only a few of them are burning, beating, branding, and stabbing. She couldn't have survived much longer."

"I will go see her then." With that, the elven prince went over to his friend's bedside. The healer had not exaggerated what she had been through. Evidence of her brutal torture was still obvious on her fair skin. The burns in particular looked especially painful. He reached out and touched one with the very tip of his finger as lightly as he possibly could.

Movement of her head attracted his attention, so he retracted his hand and turned his head slightly to look at her. She had twinged when he touched her burn, as light as it was. This burn had popped heat blisters lining every inch of burnt skin.

This made the elf prince sad. Injuries that hurt that much are very bad indeed, he thought sadly. They could only have been caused by someone with true loathing in their heart. It could conceivably be hatred, or evil.

Surprisingly for Legolas, she woke shortly after he withdrew his hand. "Men sinome?" she asked in a weak voice full of anguish and pain, very quietly. Despite her weakness, she was still able to open her eyes. They were a pure, deeply- colored green and unshed tears glistened in them.

"Lothlorien," answered her friend. He was joyful because she was awake. He could see in her face relief, probably because she had almost been overtaken by Fuinur, the despicable man that had chased her.

"_Im echayes_?" (I made it?) she asked with a faint ring of hope in her voice.

"_Nath,"_ (Yes,)Legolas said tenderly.

"Legolas? Na hi?" she asked much more hopefully but still quite weakly. She was so tired that she barely recognized the voice and wanted to make sure it was him. Her hallucinogenic torture had made her far more cautious. Because of this she wanted to be sure that she wasn't still in Dol Guldur, just waiting to be tortured once more.

_ "Nath."_ (Yes.) In his heart, Legolas knew that she had stayed unconscious to conserve her energy for the healing process that was going throughout her body, slowly but surely thanks to the care she had received recently. It was astounding how much pain and torment she had obviously endured at the hands of her previous captors.

At that moment, she smiled. It was exactly the smile e remembered from their years upon years of friendship throughout the present age, and from their parting nearly six months ago under the boughs of Mirkwood. She was definitely his dark-haired friend he had missed so much.

"_Adar?"_ she asked sorrowfully.

"_Firn,"_ (Dead) he said sadly. When he answered her in Eldarin, she was finally sure that she was truly in Lothlorien. This was no trick.

She took a long, shuddering breath, painful as it appeared to be with her chest bandaged. Then, she continued by asking, "Mithrandir?"

"_Vanwa mi lumbule Moriaello_." (Lost in the shadows of Moria) When she heard that, the extent of her despair struck his heart with such force that he could not help but try to comfort her. He carefully placed one of his slender hands on one of her slim shoulders. She closed her eyes at the light pressure of his hand and lowered her head. Then, she started to sing in her high, soprano range. As she sang, other clear, elven voices joined her.

_In guidh ristennin_

_I fae narchannen_

_I lauch Anared_

_Ardhon gwannen_

_Mithrandir, A Randir, Vithren!_

_U-reniathach_

_I amar galen_

_I reniad linne mor._

Suddenly, pain showed on her face, not just pain but agony. Very soon, she could not contain this any longer. She screamed from such intense pain. Unnecessarily, the elf prince called for the healer. He was already hurrying over to that particular bedside, finding the source of the scream of anguish that seemed to pierce the heart of everyone in the infirmary.

The healer quickly told Legolas to leave for a time, beginning his work simultaneously. He also informed him that Sirith was not yet strong enough to remain conscious for so long.

As Legolas was leaving, he glanced back at his dear friend, writhing in pain while being held down by the strong hands of her fellow elves. One of her hands was raised and clutched by both of the healer's hands. He was checking her heart rate. Moments later, her hand slumped down to the side of the bed and her head dropped from its upright position as she went unconscious. This was due to the natural sedative the healer had given her. Thankfully the elven healers of Lothlorien had a great and varied knowledge of the herbs that were native to the area, as well as their uses.

He also saw the healer carefully place her hand back onto the bed before he walked out of view. In his heart, Legolas was glad that she did not have to experience any more of that terrible pain that had been so obvious on her fair yet ghastly pale face.

oooooooooooo

A single, cloaked form stood in a dark, smoke-filled room. The only light came from a huge brazier. Large flames leapt from the grate and smoke billowed outward and upward from it in large clouds. The light generated reflected brightly off the red hair and maroon eyes of the man standing before it, staring into the large flames.

As he stood there, staring into the red flames, the heavy, iron door to the dark room opened quickly yet silently and a rather exhausted messenger burst in from the hallway outside. He was out of breathe and probably lacking sleep from the deep circles under his eyes.

The first man turned with an irritated and rather malicious gleam in his oddly-colored eyes to ask, "What is it?"

The messenger answered very quickly, slurring some words together by accident. "The poison worked. We know where she is." He seemed to not know what the message meant, or who it pertained to at all.

That was very good news for the maroon-eyed man. "Where?" he asked eagerly with a hint of a smile lighting his eyes.

"She is in Caras Galadon, the elf-city of the Golden Wood," he answered confidently, yet still meekly and in a rather humble way.

"Get her back," the strangely colored man said, smiling with vindictive satisfaction. As the messenger quickly ran out and closed the door in fear, the maroon-eyed man turned back to the leaping flames, grinning like a death's head poised to do his grim duty.

He reached slowly into a hidden pocket of his robes and withdrew a fine powder that looked like very fine, white sand. He threw this substance into the brazier and spoke a short incantation in a forgotten language of old.

Immediately, the fire began to send out shoots of green sparks. A face appeared in the flames soon after. The features were twisted with a strange mixture of pain, loss, grief, despair, and much anger. This person was in real pain, most likely emotional.

The face that appeared to float in the green and orange flames of the fire quickly composed his features and said in an annoyed and slightly frustrated tone that was just barely under control, "What is it, Gwath?"

"We have found the elf-maid," the first man stated simply and frankly. As soon as he heard that, the man in the fire's eyes lit up with hope and joyous ecstasy. He was quite obviously beyond pleased.

"Get her back! Get her back or you are no use to me!" he said heatedly, almost frantically. It was a lunatic's excited tone that came from the figure, many miles away and yet there in image. He obvious meant it and was implying that the maroon-eyed man's life depended on him succeeding in recapturing this green-eyed elf-maid.

"It shall be done, _Balan_," (Powerful one) he replied in a way that could almost be called humble, but not quite.

At that instant, the face winked out and the fire stopped spitting green sparks. The fire was back to just leaping, red and orange flames in the large grate.

oooooooo

As Sirith slept in Lothlorien, she dreamed. She dreamt that there were two cold eyes staring out at her from an all-consuming darkness. A hand reached out and cupped her cheek gently. The hand was nearly pure white, soft, and very smooth.

Another hand, the left to the first one's right, reached out a grasped her round her waist. The hand pulled her toward the eyes and into the arms of Morgoth.

Just then, Sirith woke, screaming. Her scream was long, piercing, and blood-curdling. It immediately brought Legolas, Haldir, Rűmil, Orophin, the healer, and four guards to her side.

"Sirith! Sirith!" they were almost all yelling.

"_Kel! Kel si!"_ (Go! Go away now!) Legolas said, trying to shoo them away. He was simultaneously trying to accomplish two goals: comfort Sirith and ask Sirith to marry him.

The elven warriors quickly cleared away, and the healer left as well once he was sure that Sirith would be fine.

However, Haldir, Rűmil, and Orophin refused to leave. They insisted that as her friends of so very long a time, they should stay.

"_Im onath na si,"_ (I have a reason to stay as well,) Legolas insisted.

"_Nath? Nath golodh na_?" (What? What reason is it?) Haldir asked.

Legolas looked down and dug in his pocket for a second. He pulled out a small jewelry box. When he opened it, a small ring shone from inside it.

Orophin and Rűmil had similar reactions. Their eyes went wide and their faces showed surprise in the extreme. They both knelt down by Sirith, surreptitiously blocking Legolas from view so she would not see the ring.

Haldir's face went completely blank. As the oldest of the three brothers, he looked after Sirith, who they all considered to be a sister, if not in blood than at heart. He had also heard tell of Lord Glorfindel of Imladris wanting something similar with Sirith. He was not sure who she would choose, if she did indeed choose either of them.

"_Si una i maan an hi,"_ (Now is not a good time for such a shock,) Haldir said, trying to evade questions.

"_Hi ortanuva cuivie mel_!" (But it can lead to joy!) Legolas insisted.

"_Din!"_ (Quiet!) Orophin said sharply, turning away from Sirith for a second.

Just then, the four of them heard a sound from Sirith, "_Haldir, imo hinadar…"_ (my heart-brother) Immediately, all of them were completely silent as she talked weakly. For Legolas, this was the ultimate proof that Haldir was no more than a brother to Sirith.

"_Naim si,"_ (I am here,) Haldir said, quickly running to her side and holding her hand.

"_Heru na tulath. Heru farothuva im,"_ (He is coming. You must be ready,) he said. None of the others understood, which was very good because they would not have liked the news that Morgoth was coming for her.

Before he could console her, she fell into a deep sleep again.

Slowly, Haldir stood up and said, "_Met uchebuva Sirith er. Lye raenuva. Sirith ulhawuva hi an hiril na uthalion." _(We will not leave. You may stay if you wish, but she will not hear anything more of this until she is completely recovered.)

"_Nai,"_ (As you wish,) Legolas said, knowing that something secret had passed between them. He left, knowing there was no way that he could get Sirith alone until then, and he would be gone long before she was once more well.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Sirith woke for the second time after Haldir had saved her. Standing over her were four elven figures. Most immediately, she noticed soft, cold hands bathing her temples with water. This healer's hands smelled like death. The three others were the sentries Haldir, Rűmil, and Orophin. The other elf was the healer that had been here when she woke the last time. Rűmil and Orophin stood on her right side, and the other two elves on her left. They all looked somewhat anxious. To alleviate their worry, she smiled up to them weakly. The smile did not enter her eyes and give them the brightness the three brothers were used to.

Their reactions were varied. The healer merely relaxed and stepped away from her to wipe his hands before stepping toward head to adjust a bandage. Haldir's eyes brightened and he placed one of his warm hands on her cheek. He smiled and said, "Nalye si!" (You are awake!) Orophin and Rűmil embraced each other, then Orophin grasped her hand in both of his firmly. Rűmil, on the other hand, placed a hand on her hair and said, "Lye tulant i carago gurthello!" (You have come back from the fangs of death)

"Naim sinome si," (I am here now) she said, trying to quiet them, yet not wanting to spoil their joy.

"Met golodh lye utuluva," (We thought you would never wake) Haldir said happily, still jubilant.

"Lye ortanaim. Caitantim anann. Im ethiro imo loa," (Allow me to sit up. I have lain for so long. I must stretch my limbs.) she pleaded.

"Tul cheba, Sirith," (Go slowly, Sirith) Rűmil said, placing a hand on her shoulder blade to help her up from the soft bed.

She slowly ascended from the bed, wincing as the pain intensified for a second. As he saw that expression, Haldir placed his other hand on her shoulder. Orophin, on the other hand, moved one of his hands from her hand further up her arm.

When she was sitting up and not in as much pain anymore, she said, smiling at each of them in turn, "Lye na ve imo mellon. Yes na maan lye tulant." (You have been like my brothers. I am grateful that you came.)

"Met rig lye imbe met," (We have missed you, all of us.) Rűmil assured her sincerely.

Orophin said at the same time as his brother, "Met vanwa lye an yen. Met uvanwuva enlye." (We lost you for a short time. We will hopefully not lose you again.)

"Imladris vanant, a melim si uar lye nelde,"(Rivendell was beautiful, but I love being here with you three.) she said to them reassuring, smiling once more.

"Nalye ugwana pel uar met?" (Is she well enough to walk around with us?) Haldir asked the healer who had backed up some distance from the bed but was still hovering nearby worriedly.

"Lye pel an uanann yen," (She could get up for a _short_ time.) the healer said, emphasizing short to make his point clear. No trips to the outer reaches of Lorien. Carefully, the three brothers helped Sirith to stand while the healer withdrew.

When she stood, slightly unsteady, she quickly slid on her slip, then into her white gown and blue over-gown. The three brothers guided her out of the room and into the surrounding forest. At first, the three brothers talked and laughed with her gaily.

Soon, Haldir noticed that something was preventing the elf-maiden from truly enjoying being with her friends. Something was bothering her, besides her injuries. To remedy this, he suddenly ran up the trunk of a nearby mallorn and hung from his arms and feet from it, laughing joyfully at his antics. For awhile, Sirith was able to laugh right along with Rűmil, Orophin, and Haldir, thanks to that.

Soon, she came up with an idea to keep them all engaged. During a slight, barely noticeable lull in the conversation around her, she proposed the idea, "Luva annon?" (How about a game of archery?)

All three of the brothers started talking at once. Rűmil said, "Hi onuva im er tier Orophin falath!" (That will give me a chance to get back at Orophin!)

Orophin said, "Entier Rűmil falath!" (Another chance to beat Rűmil!)

Haldir quickly swung down from the tree and said, "Im falathuva lye!" (I can probably beat both of them!)

"Met henuva, Haldir!" (We'll see about that, Haldir!) Orophin said.

"Kel an… i rhos i galadho," (Aim for…the insects on the tree 900 feet away,) Sirith said, pointing over fifty feet away.

"Kel menel i galadho. Kel i lassio. Hi na blung," (Also, go up into the trees. Sit in the branches. That should be harder,) Sirith suggested. She was glad that they were so excited.

The brothers quickly swung up into the trees, each sitting on a different branch about the same distance from the target.

"Im donuva!" (I'll start!) yelled Rűmil. Gracefully, he strung his bow and took aim.

The shot was a good one. It hit the bug he had been aiming for right in the center. "Im echuir i rhos i galadho!" (I'll hit that spider on the left!) Orophin shouted, and so he did.

Haldir quickly strung his bow and took aim.

As she watched their game, Sirith felt breathe on her pointed ear and heard a voice say, "_Si_ uva lye uar im?" (_Now_ will you accept me?)

Immediately, she recognized the voice and stepped quickly away from him, saying, "Ucaita!" (No!) softly at the same time.

With his elven hearing, Rűmil heard Sirith say, "Ucaita!" and quickly turned to see what it was about. He saw Sirith stepping away from another elf standing right behind her. Seeing that, he quickly swung down from the tree and ran to her. When he reached her, he quickly wrapped his arms protectively around her, shielding her from this elf she was obviously afraid of.

When Haldir heard Sirith's quiet exclamation, he turned to see Rűmil running down the tree to Sirith and an elf standing very near the elf-maiden. Instantly, he aimed at the new elf, ready to maim or even kill if necessary.

Orophin heard her exclamation last because he was the farthest away from her. He quickly jumped down from the tree and aimed his bow at the newcomer.

When this flurry of action was over, the elf that had just arrived glanced around at the other elves that were obviously ready to defend her.

"Man na hi?" (Who is this?) Rűmil asked Sirith quietly, whispering it into her ear.

"He is Telperin of Imladris. He tried to win my hand several times while I was there, but my father new that I distrust him. Now that line of defense is gone."

"We are your defenses now," he answered reassuringly.

"Why do you recoil, Sirith?" Telperin asked gently. He took a step toward her, then stopped when Orophin pulled back his bow the rest of the way, now completely ready to doll out a deadly shot.

"You know why!" she said disgustedly, obviously in great discomfort. Rűmil's arms tightened around her.

Telperin took another step toward Sirith, but Haldir yelled to him, "Stay away from her!"

The elf looked warily up at Haldir and, upon seeing the drawn bow pointing directly at him, began to glare at the other elf.

"Why should I stay away from the one whom I love?"

"She does not love you," Rűmil said to him.

"Allow me to-," Telperin started while taking another step toward her with one hand oustretched, but then he stopped when a warning shot came whistling past his ear from Orophin. Another arrow was already in its place. "Fine!" he said angrily. He turned and walked away without glancing back.

When Telperin was out of sight, the three brothers quickly enclosed Sirith in a circle of protection, each asking their own questions about Telperin.

The first question she heard was Orophin asking, "Who was that?"

She answered him by saying, "That was Telperin of Imladris. He tried to win my hand several times while I was there, but my father knew that I distrust him." She turned to look at him as she answered him.

Upon hearing that answer, Orophin looked pityingly at her and put one hand softly on her cheek.

"Why was he here?" Rűmil asked from behind her, putting one hand on her arm. She lifted the other hand to her shoulder, which he quickly entwined in his own. She leaned in to him, taking comfort in his strength while saying, "I would expect that he heard I was here and came himself, following me," she said sadly.

"He will not get to you again," Haldir said very reassuringly, placing one hand slowly on her cheek. Her other cheek was still occupied by Orophin's hand.

Quickly, she broke away from all three of them, turning away to hide her sobs. Haldir moved toward her first, gently wrapping his arms around her slender waist. Slowly, he said, "We will guard you, day and night, until he can no longer bother you."

In answer, she tilted her head back until it rested on the warden's chest. "Hannon le," (Thank you) she said, still crying but less brokenly.

The three brothers caringly brought her back to the healer. Gently, Orophin laid her down upon her bed once more. As soon as her head touched the pillow, she fell into a deep sleep.

As Haldir had promised, the three wardens quickly formed shifts in which they would watch over her. In a hasty argument, they decided to have Rűmil watch over her first.

oooooooo

Sirith woke in the same room in Lorien after having escaped the clutches of the fallen Vala. It was apparently about a day after the last time she had woken. Her friend, Legolas, had been there when she had woken the first time. This knowledge made her quite glad. He had told her where she was, but she could finally see this place now. Before, she had barely been able to open her eyes, and everything she had seen was blurry. Now she could open her eyes easily and see with normally clear elven vision.

From Legolas's facial expressions, she had gotten the feeling that her injuries were horrible. It certainly felt that way. Now she was just grateful that the pain was not so intense as before.

Carefully, Sirith looked around and saw Haldir in a chair, staring out the window. Beside him stood Legolas, staring at her feet.

"Haldir, Legolas," she said as loudly as she could.

"Sirith!" they both exclaimed rushing toward the elf-maid.

"How long has it been?" she asked wearily, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

"Three days," Legolas answered quickly.

"I simply _must_ move about! It has been far too long!" Sirith said, dismayed.

"I will accompany you," Legolas said before Haldir could say anything.

"Thank you," she said smiling.

The Elven Prince helped Sirith sit up and then stand after quite some time in that bed. She was still wearing the white under-gown she had worn last time she had woken.

Before Legolas walked out the door with Sirith, he looked back at Haldir. Their eyes met and Haldir seemed to be saying, _Do not dare to ask her for her hand yet!_

Legolas helped the woman he loved to walk through the forest near Caras Galadhon. As they walked, they talked and talked and talked.

They caught up on all the things that had happened since they had parted some years ago. As soon as Legolas came to his trip to Imladris, Sirith urged him to tell her of his travels with the Fellowship. He had only smiled and complied.

When finally his tale was spun, Legolas asked her, "Would you like to meet them?"

"That would be most interesting," Sirith said, smiling.

And so Sirith was introduced to the Fellowship of the Ring. Aragorn recognized her name from Glorfindel, but had not met Sirith before. Gimli seemed nice enough for a dwarf, though rough. The hobbits were darling. Boromir stared at her, hardly even coherent.

After that, Sirith was getting rather weary, so Legolas brought her back to the healer who immediately shooed him away so that he could check all the bandages for progress- she had several on her torso and legs, thus a curtain.

Some of her wounds had reopened. Those were attended to before the others. Because her condition had worsened slightly, the healer forbade her from the leaving for the next day. She was bed-ridden.

ooooooooo

The next time she woke, Sirith looked around at the room she was in. Almost immediately, she noticed Celeborn standing by the window, looking down at her. "Heru Celeborn," (Lord Celeborn) she said, hastening to bow in some way.

"Este," (Peace) he said, putting a hand up. "I have come to tell you what you should have known many years ago: your parentage," Celeborn said as he sat down by the elf-maid's side.

"Hi golodh le?" (What do you mean?) Sirith asked.

"Your father was Gwindor of Nargothrond. Your mother was Finduilas, daughter of Orodreth, son of Finarfin. By birth, your name is Princess Silasea Aralin. We only called you Sirith for your grace," Celegorn said, looking down at her seriously.

"You can not be serious," Sirith said, laughing for a second. Suddenly, her smile faded and she said, "Truly?"

"Yes, my niece. You are my wife's brother's grandchild, one of only two remaining of that bloodline. You are a Princess of the Noldor."

"But how? If I am a Princess, then-" she stopped and covered her mouth with a hand. "But…Elrond called me his…No. No! NO!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"I am…related…to Finarfin…to…to the _Elven Kings_?"

"Yes, Sirith. There is more, though. You were raised in secret in Gondolin, in the household of Turgon. I believe you knew Glorfindel then. You went to Cirdan. You stayed with him for a surprisingly long time. However, you went to Eregion and became friends with Celebrimbor. He said that you met Annatar and distrusted him. Apparently, you went to Lindon and stayed with Gil-galad because of it. Elrond brought you here just before they marched on Orodruin. I believe you know the rest."

"Why can I not remember?"

"That is for Elrond to tell you…Sirith, this has been a secret so long kept…It could topple the world," Celeborn said, looking at the elf-maid gravely.

"Why? How could I possibly be that important?"

"We thought the bloodline was extinct…Think about it…A Noldorin princess…"

Sirith gasped and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

"Rest well, my niece. Do not let your heart be troubled. You can return to Imladris as soon as you're healed with Rűmil and Orophin," the Elf Lord assured her, smiling as he stroked her hair soothingly.

Sirith soon gave in to the tug of sleep on her eyelids. She fell into a deep, untroubled sleep for some time.

ooooooooo

The next time Sirith woke, she felt much better. She opened her eyes almost without any hesitation, but she was enveloped in a warm embrace before she could look around. "You're awake! Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, Legolas," the elf-maid teased, hugging him.

"Oh, how I've missed you!"

"How long was I out for?" she asked, astonished.

"Two days," Legolas said grimly.

"When did you arrive?" she asked.

"A month ago. I have to leave tomorrow, but now that you're fine, you're leaving too!"

"What? Where?" she asked, sitting up quickly.

"You're going to Imladris, as far from danger as you can be until I get back," the Elven Prince said, smiling down at her.

"And where are you going?" she asked.

"You know the final destination. We'll go down Anduin past Rauros to get there," he said, seeming sad that he had to leave there.

"Allow me to get up. It seems like such a long time since I walked about," she said, smiling pleadingly.

"Not for long. You need energy for your journey," Legolas said, releasing her so that she could stand up.

As she stood, she noticed a short figure sitting beside Legolas's chair. She glanced at Legolas and gestured to the small, hairy person. He whispered, "Gimli."

"I do not suppose he knows his way around here, does he?" she asked, smiling.

"No, and he'll wonder if we suddenly disappear," Legolas said, sighing.

"Well, wake him, then," she said with smile.

"I suppose you've never seen a grumpy dwarf, then?" he asked, smiling.

"No. Why do you think _you're_ waking him?"

Legolas laughed lightly before turning to Gimli and shaking him. "Are we under attack?" the dwarf asked, practically jumping up.

Sirith laughed, making Gimli look at her. As soon as he saw that she was awake, he bowed and said, "My lady."

"Do not worry, Gimli. We are friends now. You need not be so formal. Just call me Sirith," she said, smiling a dazzling smile that knocked the breathe out of Legolas.

ooooooo

The next day, Sirith woke to Rűmil and Orophin standing over her. "That's right. Wake up, Sirith," Rűmil said.

"Are we there yet?" Sirith asked, confused and sleep-muddled.

"No. We're just about to leave, Lisse," (Sweet) Orophin said quietly and patiently. He always was the sweet one.

Sirith's eyes became more focused and she smiled. It was obvious that she was awake now. "Well, we had best be going, then. I really want to see Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel again!"

The brothers smiled and laughed to themselves as they led Sirith to the stables where they kept horses for just this purpose.

"Sirith, you'll ride with Orophin. The others are almost here," Rűmil said, gesturing to two other elves that walked into the stables just then.

Sirith smiled and said, "Mae govannen!"

Orophin quickly pulled Sirith up in front of him as the other elves mounted their horses.

The group rode out and was beyond the borders of Lorien within a day.

ooooooooo

That night, Sirith had trouble sleeping. After tossing and turning for hours, she got up and walked around on the plains. She could see the mountains looming above her, dark shapes on the horizon.

It took many weeks to get anywhere near Imladris. Each night, Sirith went for a walk under the stars to calm herself, putting her in more danger than she knew.

When there were only two weeks remaining in their journey, the group of elves encountered someone along the road. They heard a horse's hooves against the ground and immediately signaled to go to the side of the road and hide.

As they lay in wait, the horse sped into view. A golden-haired rider was visible atop the shining horse. "Glorfindel!" Sirith immediately called, jumping from her hiding spot.

The elf skidded to a stop right in front of her. He jumped off and embraced her tightly. "Oh, Sirith! I missed you!"

From there, Glorfindel traveled with Sirith and her other escorts. He was guiding them and making sure they made it to Imladris safely, for Sirith's sake.

oooooooo

One night, Glorfindel woke in the middle of the night with uneasiness. He looked over to Sirith's bed and saw it empty. He immediately began to worry. He started to search through the woods surrounding their camp site for her.

He found her soon enough. She was standing and staring at the stars. "Sirith!" he called to her softly.

"Glorfindel?" she asked, not turning.

"What are you doing out? You should be in bed," the Elf Lord said, walking over to stand beside her.

"I could not sleep," she said, looking over to him for the first time that night.

"Are you worried?"

"No. Sad, mostly. My father is dead… Mithrandir is dead… Haldir, Legolas, and Aragorn have gone to war… The Eldar are leaving these shores, never to return…" she said, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"It is a time of sadness and upheaval, but you should not worry. I will not let anything harm you," Glorfindel said, putting one hand gently on her shoulder.

"Glorfindel, if all goes well and peace returns, will you leave these shores?"

"Not without you," he whispered.

"And if I die, what then?" Sirith asked sorrowfully.

"Do not say such things. Only an orc would kill someone as beautiful as you, and I will not let that happen," Glorfindel assured her.

"How can you be so sure? How can you know?" she asked, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Sirith, I will protect you…because I love you. Would you accept my hand?"

Sirith sighed and said, "Glorfindel…"

"Please, Sirith. I thought I'd lost you. Every day was agony. I almost took my own life to see you again in the Halls of Mandos, but I kept telling myself you were alive. I do not ever want to lose you again. Please, Sirith," the Elf Lord pleaded, tears streaming down his face.

Sirith hesitated. _Should she?_ "Glorfindel, I...I love you...Yes," she said.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

As the group of five elves approached Imladris, only a few days away, a large group of orcs darted through the shadows of the trees behind them, somehow able to stay silent as their iron-shod feet stamped the ground. The party of elves was completely unaware of the danger presenting itself.

When the group of elves was practically upon them, the orcs ran up quickly and stabbed Orophin, who had been helping her, in the side. He would live, but it would take a long time to heal. Rumil, who was in front of her, immediately whirled, drawing his sword gracefully at the same time. He crouched low, searching for enemies nearby. As he did that, he quickly guided Sirith so that she was standing behind him along with Haldir.

As the skilled elves fought, an orcs came up behind them both and grabbed Sirith, intending to run before the other elves noticed. Glorfindel noticed almost immediately and turned to kill the orc responsible. He lunged at the orc that was carrying her off and plunged his blade into the orc's back.

By taking this evasive action, he exposed his left flank to attack from the other orcs. Glorfindel was nearly decapitated, but instead merely knocked out, as he pulled his sword hastily from the corpse of the orc he had just killed.

Rumil and Haldir continued to fight. Both fell quickly to the onslaught of the orcs, though neither of them was mortally wounded. When the apprentice's unconscious body fell out of the way, two orcs lunged at the elf-maiden and grasped her firmly. Together, they pulled her away struggling into the trees with their comrades in front and behind them.

One of the orcs that had grabbed Sirith brutally knocked her unconscious so she wouldn't struggle anymore. They took her away from Imladris, to Dol Guldur. Once more, though this time slower, she went over the Misty Mountains.

ooooooooo

Legolas quickly walked towards the talan of the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien Celeborn and Galadriel. The rulers of Lothlorien had summoned him, probably to tell him exactly what happened. His short speculations were cut even shorter than he wanted them to be by the ceremonial stair guards coming to escort him up the stairs to the Lord and Lady.

It turns out, he was correct about their purpose. Celeborn and Galadriel gently told him that she had been kidnapped when she was literally a day's travel away from Imladris. None of the wardens was killed, and neither was Glorfindel. They were in Imladris recovering. No one knew where they were now.

oooooooo

Sirith woke in pain. She had an excruciating headache, probably from when the orc had hit her, hard, on the head. She was experiencing intense vertigo, and she saw swirling colors all around her. When she could see again, and when the world wasn't a swirl of spinning colors, she looked around.

She was chained in place to a large, granite block with grooves in it. A large man stood off to the side of the block, still in the same, fire-lit room.

Quickly, her eyes followed the grooves in the stone to a huge pot. Orange light seeped from the opening in the pot and from the large fire underneath the pot.

She could easily deduce what this stone block was for. Her torturers would tip the pot, slowly hopefully, and spill the burning liquid into the grooves. The liquid would be pushed through the grooves and burn her, starting with her feet and working up slowly, until she was dead. Along with that, the whole time she would be breathing in the smoke which, if she survived the burning liquid, would damage her lungs.

The large, granite block was in a room made completely of black stone. There was a brazier near the door that provided the only light besides that of the fire and the liquid which was destined to burn her already heavily injured skin.

Just then, the man she had noticed early turned around and saw that she was awake. He said, "Aha!" The sound startled her out of her examination of the room before she was finished. She quickly changed her gaze to the man's face.

He walked punctually over to the pot, simultaneously calling out to someone else, apparently named 'Grima', over to him. A slinking, pale man with black, greasy hair came edging in cautiously. He smelled strongly of horse. She recognized him as Grima, the King of Rohan's advisor. She wondered what such a person was doing here in Dol Guldur, assuming she was in Dol Guldur.

The first man whispered something in Grima's ear. They had apparently assumed that she didn't have good enough ears to hear them. She understood perfectly well what they said, despite the fact that they were whispering. The first man whispered to Grima, "Here's your chance to see an elf. She will tell all you must know or die." She showed no indication that she understood.

The first man walked quickly forward to the pot again. He rested one hand on the rim of the pot and kept his other hand by his side. Grima watched intently. She turned her attention back to the first man as he said, "Well now, Elf. If you want to avoid the burning fire, tell me what you know of Olorin." She stayed silent.

The man slowly started to tip the pot as a response to her not answering. A little of the strange, burning liquid was pouring into the groove, yet he didn't change the cant of the pot. The liquid quickly filled the groove and came up to almost her feet. She could feel the great heat radiating from the liquid to her feet.

"If you want to get out of this, I suggest you answer the question, now. Answer," the first man said to her very sadistically. She was still quiet, and, as a result, he tipped the pot a little farther. The searing liquid crept closer and the searing liquid burned into her flesh. She couldn't move her feet away because they were chained, so she tried not to focus on the terrible pain wracking her body. She was not successful at all.

The burning liquid kept moving up on the outside of her body, burning as it went. By the time the liquid reached her knees, she couldn't even hear her screams. She was only conscious of the terrible agony, that and nothing else. Just before the liquid reached her hips, the liquid drained off through the valve-like device in the side of the block that she hadn't seen before. It took more than a minute before she stopped screaming, and she still had to spend a much greater time in concentration before she could look outwards without intense pain in her legs.

When she did return her attention to the outward world, she saw the same man as before smiling sadistically down at her. She looked over at Grima and found him looking straight back into her eyes with a very odd, contemplative look on his face.

She looked over at the man she didn't know the name of and decided to call him Apanonar (meaning 'man') for the time being. Apanonar said to her, "Have you decided to be more forthcoming?" In response she glared at him. He paled visibly before regaining his haughty outward façade.

When he was once more calm, he said, "I thought not." He started to tip the pot again and the liquid poured it to mere inches away from her heels.

She looked down to her legs and the boiling liquid. In doing so, she assessed the damage to her legs. Currently, she only had second degree burns, but that would change if they poured it again.

Just before the liquid reached her heels again, the door slammed open and a black figure ran in yelling, "Stop!" He knocked Apanonar's hand away from the pot. Unfortunately for both this new arrival and Sirith, the pot sloshed around a lot and quite a bit of this strange liquid spilled out. As a result, the level of the burning liquid rose to nearly her knees once again. With the renewed pain, she went unconscious.

The black cloaked figure stopped and asked Apanonar in indignation, "What are you doing?"

He answered, puzzled yet confident, "Interrogating the prisoner."

"Weren't you ordered not to harm her?" he asked, or sort of exclaimed, with disgust and much anger.

"No. I was ordered to interrogate her using what methods I wished to get specific information from her." As he heard that, the cloaked figure punched Apanonar with much force in the nose. Apanonar black out immediately, and he fell to the floor with a broken and bleeding nose.

Once he had accomplished that, he hurried over to her burnt, crumpled form, hoping to find some indication that she was as of yet alive. He was glad to find that she was still alive, albeit barely. She was still horribly burnt and injured.

Quickly, he picked her up and cradled her head in the crook of his arm gently. The Vala hastily brought her away from the torture chamber to find help and medicine for her.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Once more with an excruciating headache, Sirith woke to a different room than previously. Beyond the pain in her head, every part of her legs up to nearly her hips was filled with terrible pain from the burns she had received. Her legs were bandaged very thoroughly and very neatly.

She was chained by her wrists to the glossy, black floor. She was in a fairly dark, fire lit room, but she was in a cage. The bars of the cage were spaced evenly nine inches apart. Her cage was eight feet across.

The hair ornament that had stayed in her hair for so long hung loose, allowing her hair to pool downwards. Only now did she notice that her slippers were gone. Her long, midnight black hair was loose from the impossibly valuable half-circlet and fell off the edge of the block, pouring downwards in waves of darkness and shadow, pooling behind her head. Her red gown somewhat gathered around her, except the skirt part. There, it was hap hazardously strewn over her legs. There, the soft, shining material set off the pale whiteness of her skin more effectively than anything but deep black could.

The room was circular, with a small hallway created by evenly spaced columns about five feet apart each, except for the ones by the door. These two columns were double-spaced to accommodate the door. Between every column stood a dark, iron brazier about three and half feet tall. Every darkly colored brazier had a fire leaping in the grate. These small fires generated the only light in the room. The columns and braziers stood approximately five feet from the wall.

This made the room roughly 28 feet in diameter. The walls, floor, and ceiling where all made from a black, glistening stone that appeared to be obsidian.

When she finally ran out of energy and objects to study until she knew every contour and dimension, she set her head back against the cool stone of the floor.

To maintain courage, she sang a song in her native tongue, taking comfort in the marching rhythm she sang slowly.

_Man (Who)_

_Ammen toltha (Silent Watching)_

_I dann hen morn (The eye of darkness_

_Si dannatha nauva (Now take together)_

_Mel (Love)_

_Memma noren sina (land)_

_Nura la earo (Devoted to sea)_

_Nuri Ar... __(Love and)_

Right as she finished the first stanza of the long song, she heard footsteps in the hallway outside her cell. One pair of feet plodded along in cloth shoes. The cloth was slapping against the stone floor to generate the loud, shrill sound she heard. The other was a pair of heavily booted feet that sounded armored, probably with metal plates. The footsteps all stopped in when the sounded like they were right in front of the heavy, iron door to the room she was in. The footsteps stopped in front of the armored door to the room she was in. When the footsteps stopped, she heard a cold voice ask, "Did you drug her?" The voice was very serious and very clear.

She heard a different pair of booted feet step closer to her door, presumably to unlock it. At least, this is what it sounded like. It took many long seconds for that person to unlock the door and resume their previous position right beside the door. As he did that, she heard a different, rougher, yet still remarkably smooth, voice say, "Along with a considerable amount of medicine, I allowed a rather powerful hallucinogenic drug."

The door swung open as silently as its shadow to reveal a man with red hair and maroon eyes. She had seen this man many times before. He had been there every single time she had been tortured, as well as at the rather strange masquerade where she had met Morgoth. This, to her, confirmed the fact that she was in Dol Guldur once more.

Behind him entered a hideous form shrouded in shadow. The dark figure was almost wraith-like and enfolded in a heavy black cloak. It was hard to see the form of the thing through the folds of the cloak. She could at least see that the figure wore all black underneath the cloak. The figure looked relatively slender and yet very strong. He also seemed to be nearly perfectly muscled, almost flawlessly.

A heavy, iron crown sat on the head of the figure. Shadow and darkness flowed out from the dark figure in waves of blackness. That form was so hideous and had such an evil gleam in its eyes that the elf-maid felt the need to scream or vomit. So, she thought, this is your true form, Morgoth.

The figure walked in with disconcerting gracefulness. It was sickening to see such grace in anything but an elf. He stopped in the shadow of one of the columns, protected from the light of the many braziers, yet still with an unobstructed view of her. There it stood and stared at her intently, at which point she noticed that she had been staring, with sick horror, at it.

She hastily averted her eyes and found where the maroon-eyed man had gone. He was standing by her side, looking down upon her intently. When she looked up at him, he looked into her green eyes with his own, cold, maroon eyes. She in turned looked back into his odd eyes. After awhile, he asked her in Westron, "What are the elves going to do with the Ring?" She didn't answer him. In fact, she showed no indication at all that she had any idea what he was saying.

Her eyes flicked from the red-haired man, Caradan, to the dark figure in the shadows, Morgoth, and back. The man however, seemed unperturbed by her language difficulties. He asked her, once more in Westron, "What do you know of a man called Olorin?" Again, she did not answer, but now she knew that he wanted to have her know about Mithrandir.

At that point in the interrogation, the dark figure in the shadows stepped forward, still extremely gracefully, and placed a leather gloved hand on the man's arm. The maroon-eyed man quickly withdrew from the cage with a look of terror on his face, waving forward the dark figure at the same time. The man left the room very quickly, leaving her with that thing.

The cloaked figure slowly paced around her, staring at her and taking in every detail of her slightly disheveled appearance, still staggeringly beautiful to a mortal. Sometimes he would reach out to touch her face. He would always stop and quickly withdraw his hand, as though he regretted it. She was somewhat disgusted by this small thing he did. She could not help but wonder about his reasoning behind this action.

Eventually, the figure stopped by her right side. He reached carefully into an inner pocket and withdrew a silver-grey shoe. To her, that explained what had happened to her shoes since her torture by burning liquid. Quickly, she returned her attention to the horrific figure. The figure slowly ran his leather-gloved hand along the length of the satin shoe, then gently set it down on the floor near her.

Once more, he reached his hand into the same inner pocket of his cloak and brought out her other shoe. He slowly repeated the same, strange process with this shoe. As he did that, he said purposely yet slightly absentmindedly, "You ignored my summons."

She asked him, already knowing the general answer, "Ar nakelim?" (And if I had gone)

Upon hearing her intelligent question, he chuckled quietly and said, "Your food would have been poisoned. After you went unconscious, you would be detained until I arrived, hopefully with you unharmed."

When she heard this, she snorted softly with detached, cold amusement and turned away from him. "You shall see," he said to her.

_ When he said that, a vision came to her mind's eye. She saw in her mind's eye herself lying down on a hilltop. She appeared to be a bright figure against the night sky illuminated by the light of the silver-shining moon. The view of the hilltop was from the balcony of a tall dark, tower._

_ As she looked down at this scene, a dark figure walked into her view onto the balcony. The figure was Morgoth as he was in the Elder Days. He had been both fair and noble of face. He looked right at her on the hilltop and said in a mocking tone, laughing at the questions he posed, "Who is this little elf-maid that dares to sleep so close to Utumno?"_

_ His tone suddenly changed to a puzzled tone, like he was finally seriously considering what he was saying. From his facial expression, he was fighting within himself over what course of action he should take. "She seems so tired, so exhausted."_

_ At this point, he left the balcony and hurried down many flights of black, stone stairs to the entrance to the dark tower. Now that she saw the inside, she knew that this was Utumno._

_ As Melkor sprinted down the stairs, he kept talking to himself. He was very puzzled and torn, like he was vacillating. "She is so beautiful, but _all_ of them are beautiful. Why is she alone, and not with her own kind?"_

_ He had now reached the entrance of Utumno and stood staring at the elven, sleeping form, only a child to him, for he was as old as the world. She was only a thousand or so years old, being one of the Eldar. "She's so young, even for an elf. She can't be over a thousand."_

_ At this point, he knelt down with his head bowed. He held his head in his hands and looked very confused. "I have to clear my mind...I can't be kind to her, to anyone."_

_ Now he looked back up at her. He obviously could not help but feel sorry for her. "What drove her here? Why is she alone? Her kind is everywhere, so why is she not with them? Have they cast her out?"_

_ At this point, he slowly, very slowly and very, very cautiously walked toward her, practically tip-toeing. He felt a determination to help her, yet did not want to disturb her. "I must help her. She is all alone, with no one around her. I could...no!"_

_ Only now was he realizing that he, in his own way, loved this strange, beautiful elf-maiden, even though he had never before met her. She was obviously desperate because under no other conditions would she sleep right in front of the infamous fortress of Utumno, or in front of Thangorodrim for that matter. "There has to be another way for me...A way of escape from this insanity!...I can't just let this go...I have to help her."_

_She saw herself wake from her convenient view right over Morgoth's head. She saw herself turn and notice him. Immediately, she faded into the trees of the forest behind her. She saw him pursuing her through the trees, barely keeping her in sight as she darted from shadow to shadow._

_ She saw herself swing suddenly up into the limbs of the trees. She also saw herself start to run along the branches. Then, she saw herself disappear, melting into the boughs of the forest._

Abruptly, the image in her mind vanished and she could see that she was still in the circular room, trapped.

"Lye!" (You) she said quietly.

"He would have killed you if I hadn't intervened," Morgoth said, willing her to understand.

"Ar nacarachim, ve golodhlye," (And yet I am hardly unscathed as you well know) she said, glancing at the bandages covering all of her wounds.

"Why didn't you just wait for me to get you from Fuinur's realm?" he asked her, puzzled and saddened.

"Teithlye golodh Fuinur ant imello?" (Do you know what he would have done to me?) she asked, disgusted.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," he said pityingly.

"Fuinur uva…. echantnur," (He would have… taken my honor) she said disgustedly.

As soon as she said that, his hideous face molded into a mask of fury, so intense. His eyes were the most frightening of all. They were glistening pools of long-repressed anger and hatred.

Thinking of the mysterious messages again made her think of when she had received similar messages before. She could not remember when, but she did remember that the penmanship had been exactly the same, down to the odd curve in the letter silme nuquerna of the Tengwar alphabet.

Finally, he stopped by her right side, resting his right leather-gloved hand on her arm and the other on a bar of the cage. As he did that, she gasped. She now remembered the time she had experienced that hideous oppressiveness from long ago, in the Elder Days. Her face probably showed her horror because he threw back his head and started to laugh. His laughter was cold and piercing, and very cynical. His leather-bound hand slapped once against the stone at her side. She supposed that her eyes had widened as was her habit when she was surprised by something.

When he finished his laughing, he said, "Narinlye im." (You remember me.) She was disgusted and slightly aghast that he could just prattle on in Eldarin with his accursed voice saying, "Nalye uendagnir, im vanwa imo aglareb bel. Unai deloth im." (You need not fear me this time. I have lost my great powers. Do not abhor me as you did before.) He then said, "I even spoke your own language."

As he said these things, she began to murmur, just to herself, "I vorn du tell romenesse, i anar met i nore dagnir." (The blackest night must end in dawn, the sun dispel the dreamer's fear.) Next, she said louder with resentment coloring her tone considerably, "Quenuvalye i lamber eldareva." (Thou canst speak the tongues of the elves.)

As he heard her saying this, he chuckled softly, and said to himself, "You were like this before."

"Why did you approve of them torturing me, then, and why did you allow your men to visit me for their pleasure?" she asked out of disgust, and also horror and anger. She used Westron intentionally to get a reaction from him.

"What?" As he said the last statement, he once again reached out to touch her face. He saw her move her head slightly away from him, but he ignored that movement and put his hands on her cheeks, reaching between the bars to do so. He did not force any vision on her this time. His hands were cold, ice cold, and soft, a strange combination. As he did that, he held her head very still. Very quickly, he asked her, "Maan?" (Who)

"He was just in here. He was the man with maroon eyes, red hair, and ivory skin." His touch became a caress as she said that. She flinched and tried to move her head out from his grasp. He wouldn't allow her to move even an inch. He held her there for a short time before withdrawing his hands. This motion of his was very disturbing to her, beyond anything else he had said or done. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't remember what it was.

"Im gurthuva hain an hi," (I will kill him for this) he said very angrily as he withdrew his hands, looking VERY angry. He motioned someone else in and stormed out, muttering profanity under his breathe, putting his black, leather gloves on at the same time.

While he walked away from her, she said to him, "Please let me go!"

He turned back briefly to look at her, pity and sorrow in his eyes. He said, "You ask for the one thing I cannot give. I cannot refuse you in anything else, but this one thing."

Then, he turned away and left. As he walked by the door, she said, "Please!" From her voice, she could tell that she was crying. This nearly tore his heart in two, but he still left.

With his last comments, he gave her much information. Firstly, he did not know about her previous imprisonment before he arrived. That surprised her greatly. The other thing she had learned was that the maroon-eyed man was very powerful, but not more powerful than Morgoth.

Her thoughts turned back to Morgoth. She knew who that was and sincerely wished she did not have any idea who he was. He was Morgoth, but was supposed to be trapped in the Void for all time since the end of the Elder Days.

The door opened once more and in came a man. It at least appeared to be a man. He held a tray and on it were some implements she knew were used in the medically field, along with some bandages. He wore a rather tattered set of clothing she recognized as from Rohan. He appeared to be a prisoner, forced to serve the dark powers of Mordor.

The man walked over to her side and put his tray down by her side on the floor, right next to her silver-grey shoes. Only then did she notice a set of keys on the tray. Surprisingly, the man smiled and looked straight at her. That was all it took for her to recognize him. "Glorfindel!" she exclaimed happily.

The elf lord asked her, already knowing the answer, "Do you want out?" He said this with a large grin.

"Yes!" she said as she got up from the cold, stone floor with his assistance, after he had unlocked her chains. She quickly slipped her shoes onto her feet. He took her hand and led her out into the hallway. There they both started running with their faster-than-mortal pace through the hallway. They were soon out of that hallway and in a lower corridor lit only by the light of torches.

Glorfindel started urging her faster. Sirith tried to go as fast as possible with him, but she .was still healing from her previous imprisonment and torture by burning liquid. As a result, she could manage a sort of limping run as her fastest pace, with the aid of the elf lord.

As she ran through a third hallway, she felt soft leather, wet with a warm, sticky liquid she suspected was blood, grasp her free arm. She cried out as she was pulled backward roughly and so forcefully that the other elf fell over as well as her. She landed flat on her back. Her landing sent a shock through her body.

Several pairs of booted feet came into her view as she tried to prop herself up on her arms, breathing very roughly from the fall and the pain. As she struggled to regain her feet, she saw several guards draw their swords and attack her rescuer. When she saw this, the hope she had nursed in her heart shrank considerably. Finally, she regained her feet and ran back to Glorfindel, not wanting to get dragged away again.

Behind her, a dark form stood with both arms outstretched slightly toward her as though he was fighting the urge to grab her and run. The expression on his face said that he was very concerned for her, and very, very angry that someone had almost taken her from him. He had been about to help her back up before she ran. He wanted to wrap his arms around her protectively and not let go until she remembered him, and this new elf was gone.

Just as she reached Glorfindel, one of the guards lunged to stab him. He would have stabbed her friend, at least she mostly thought of him as a friend) through the heart if he had not dodged the incoming blade.

The sword would have pierced her side just below her ribs, but a black-gloved hand grabbed the blade of the sword. The edge cut deeply into the palm and fingers of the hand as the hand wrenched it away from her side. It did not pass by without harming her, though. The curved sword cut into her arm at the tip before curving away and cutting much m ore deeply into her side.

She cried out from the pain and fell to her uninjured side. When Glorfindel saw that, he glanced back to make sure she was okay. One of the guards saw that and brought his hilt down on the back of her rescuer's head. After she fell, she saw the elf lord's unconscious form falling near her.

She did not see his form hit the floor, but she did hear it. Before she could see the body hit, a dark, cloaked form was crouched over her protectively, shielding her from something or someone. Just as her view was blocked, a howl echoed down the hallway to them. She now knew what she was being shielded from: wargs. These were the great, wolves of Sauron. The sound of their howls chilled her very soul. She shrunk into the wall, but that started a new wave of pain that made her cry out.

Before her cry was finished, the person bending over her clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. The hand was ice cold. She knew who was blocking her from the wargs: Morgoth.

Very soon, she saw shadows reflected in the firelight. They were large, canine shadows, running around. They often stopped suddenly to sniff something or someone. Every guard held perfectly still, and so did Morgoth. She was already frozen, too frightened to move.

One of the wargs stopped right in front of them, and started to sniff at them. Morgoth kept his hand in place. His face was just inches away from hers. His eyes were pleading for her to be quiet, and they sympathized with her for being so scared. In very small motions, his fingertips stroked her face without having the palm of his hand move from her lips. He was desperately trying to calm her.

She noticed that his other hand's fingertips pressed the wall behind her with gargantuan force. Blood seeped from that hand, dripping slowly down the wall. He was hiding his fear for her.

Soon, the warg apparently recognized Morgoth, and moved on down the hallway. Only when the warg was out of sight did Morgoth relax and remove his hand from her lips. He quickly stood and gave the guards new orders.

As he did that, she successfully tried to lean against the wall so that she could sit up. She cringed from the pain, and cried out soon after. Morgoth immediately noticed that and came back over to her. His feet, a different pair of feet, still booted but more heavily so, came into her view while she laid there in pain. That pair of feet started moving towards her as she put a hand over the wound in her side. She stayed there for several seconds, catching her breathe after such exertion.

Morgoth stopped by her side and bent down until his face was level with hers. She continued looking down, too pained to truly focus on much.

She felt a smooth, gentle finger underneath her chin. That finger lifted her chin until she was looking at the Vala. Those cold fingers belonged to Morgoth, as she well knew by now. "Are you hurt?" Morgoth asked her with much concern in his voice. In answer, she glanced down at the blood oozing between her fingertips from the open wound in her side. She heard a sharp intake of breathe from him as he noticed the blood dripping from her fingers.

She saw the Vala reach out slowly toward her hand. He grasped her hand gently by her fingers with his uninjured hand and pried them away from the wound. She winced and her breathe became ragged again as her hand was pulled away. Morgoth's eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. He glanced quickly over at the warrior who had stabbed her and dropped her hand. She put it immediately back to her wound, wincing in the process. When he returned his gaze to her, his eyebrows were furrowed into a scowl, showing his anger and distress.

Swiftly and gracefully, he rose to his feet. Once he had accomplished that, he reached down and grasped her arm. Carefully, he pulled her up to her feet.

The whole figure quickly came into view. The Vala immediately noticed that she was despairing and fearful at his presence. He quickly grabbed her arms near the shoulders and made her face him. After some struggling, she realized that she could not slip free of his iron-like grip, wet with blood she could see now. Some of the blood was his, but not all.

"Men sinome?" (Where is this) she asked weakly.

"Dol Guldur," he said briskly while changing his grip on her from one of her arms so he held her around her waist, his hand pressing tightly against one of her wounds. As he did that, her breathe became more ragged than even before and she winced very noticeably. Despite this, she pressed her arm down on his hand to stop the bleeding in the wound on that particular wound as well as providing coverage and pressure for the other wound on her arm. He released his grip on the top of her other arm and drew his shining sword. He turned and stabbed the guard that had cut her despite his effort. His sword went straight through the guard's stomach. The guard fell to the floor and his stomach gushed blood. Now _that_ was a mortal wound.

Her captor quickly sheathed his curving sword. The hilt came away from his hand wet with dark blood, his. He gestured to one of the guards who then handed him a cloth which he held tightly against the wound in his hand. The guard handed him a second, longer strip of cloth which he quickly tied around her waist, securing the other bandage at the same time.

"Please let me go!" Sirith pleaded once more.

"I will give you anything you ask for, except this," he said sadly.

A third piece of cloth was brought to him, which he tied around her upper arm, covering her wound with a few layers of clean, white cloth. Once that was neatly completed, he waved the remaining guard away.

He readjusted his grasp to its previous position on her upper arms. Now that she was facing him again, he spoke, but his face showed pleading for her to believe him. "Deloth aiya melo. Lye uva nolde lhawo." (Fear can turn to love. You'll learn to see.)

However, she was losing a lot of blood from her wounds, despite having them being covered. As he finished speaking, she had lost enough blood to become dizzy and lightheaded. She fell toward the floor because of this.

Morgoth caught her quickly and pulled her back up before her head could hit the floor. Once he had accomplished that, he took hold of her wrist and nearly dragged her through the hallway sparsely lit by slowly burning torches to the stairs she had previously descended. Once he had reached the stairs, but not yet mounted the, he placed her almost under his arm, still maintaining a hold on her with both, strong, cold hands yet carefully avoiding her newly created wounds. The whole way back to her cell, she struggled greatly to free herself from his iron-like grasp. Unfortunately for her, his grip was absolutely unbreakable.

When they were once again in the room with the circular cage, he set her back on her injured feet. He noticed almost immediately that she was trembling violently and her breathing was quite ragged. He correctly read those signs as fear and blood-loss. He asked her in a rather confused tone, "Why do you fear me? Why?"

She did not answer, and her eyes started to roll as if she was fainting, probably from loss of so much blood. When he saw her eyes rolling all over the place, he reached into a different pocket than before and pulled out a small bottle with a red liquid inside.

Despite her condition, Sirith tried to back away from him to avoid whatever that substance was. He anticipated her doing that and put his arm around her slender waist, grasping her firmly yet always gently and tenderly while still completely preventing any possibility of escape. He still made sure to put pressure on the wound in her side, carefully.

The crude bandage over that particular wound was already wet through and through with blood. He guided her back and slightly to the side so that she was up against one of the bars of the cage in the center of the room. Morgoth then removed his arm and held her head instead. As he did that, he said gently and reassuringly, "You need not fear. This is medicine." He smoothed her hair softly away from her face and opened her mouth with the same hand. He poured the contents of the bottle down her throat.

Once he had accomplished that, he dropped the empty, re-corked bottle back into a pocket and released his hold on her head. Despite the supposed medicine, she was still losing blood. She had now lost enough blood to become quite weak. Her legs could no longer support her weight, small as it was. As a result, she fell toward the floor.

Morgoth caught her quickly and gently lowered her to the cold floor. He cradled her head in the crook of his arm and smoothed her dark hair softly away from her face. He could see that her eyes were growing dim and clouded. He feared she might be dying. In despair, he called to her saying, "Imo mel, lye uva coi!" (My love, you will live!)

Quickly, he tore a strip long strip of cloth from the bottom of his black cloak and pressed it firmly against the wound in her side.

Gradually, the blood flow slowed, but no color returned to her deathly pale face. He sensed that she was just barely hanging on to life and consciousness. He hoped that by stopping the blood flow, she wouldn't die. As he attempted to slow her blood flow, she said haltingly and with much effort, "Lye nuva uoiale cheba im si." (You will not have me now.)

When she said that, he used what gifts and powers he still retained as a former Vala to keep her alive. Even through that effort, she lost consciousness before she could go on.

Hastily yet always very gently and tenderly, he picked the elf-maid up and set her back on the floor inside the cage. Swiftly, he sent the guard off to fetch the supplies necessary for tending her wounds.

Once he had the materials that would be required, he began to tend her wounds very carefully and gently, yet quite efficiently. He made sure that he would not be disturbed during this work. Despite these multiple efforts, the great pain caused by his tending made her regain consciousness for a brief stretch of time in the middle of the process.

First, her head started to roll from side to side as different waves of agonizing pain washed over her. After a time, he noticed that she was conscious when she said quite weakly and yet fondly, "Farotur?" This was the name she had called Morgoth when he pursued her into the forest of Fangorn in the First Age.

She slowly opened her green, pain-filled eyes and saw him part way through cleaning the wound in her side.

"Sirith!" he exclaimed. He sounded beyond happy. He was quite ecstatic and very, very relieved.

She winced from the pain he was causing and said, "Balan Belegurth, daro." (Vala Melkor, halt)

"Im unuva daro. Im daro, lye firnuva." (I will not stop. If I were to stop now, you would die.) She went unconscious again before he had finished the second sentence.

He continued working with a smile on his face. She had remembered, albeit for a very short time, the relationship they had had in the First Age. She had not remembered that he was Morgoth, until a few seconds ago.

As he tended her, he said tenderly and lovingly, "You must find the strength within you to live. Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams. Silivren hiril, please." (Glittering white lady)

Soon enough, he finished his tending of her.

He stayed by her side for some time after he was done, gazing intently down upon her. He stared the most at her head and hair because a light was in her hair, and upon her brow, among other reasons.

He noticed that her hand and the floor were covered with blood. He silently took a black cloth from a hidden pocket in his cloak and daubed away the blood carefully. This blood was not her blood. There was no cut underneath the congealing mess and no break in the smooth, pale skin.

At that point, he remembered right before he had dragged her up, she had tried to staunch the blood-loss with her hand. In reflection, he found that the blood on the block was probably there because it had taken so long to stop the blood-loss from one of her wounds (the one in her side).

After some time, he slowly removed his glove to reveal a well-shaped, slender, strong hand with soft, pale skin. He reached out very carefully and touched her smooth cheek, caressing it again softly and gently. He moved his hand down over her rosy lips and continued to caress her refined, elven features.

As he touched her, his well-shaped, slender lips parted into a smile. In his joy, he said, "Soon, the binding will be complete and you will never leave me."

After awhile, he withdrew his hand carefully and left. He did not even bother to try to keep her from his thoughts. Instead, he reveled in her presence in his myriad thoughts and fantasies. He kept her in his mind for as long as he possibly could with such great mental prowess and acuity.

ooooooooooo

When Sirith woke from her fall, the red-haired man was bending over her. He pulled her up, wrapped her in a black cloak, and pulled her out the door and into the hallway from the room with the circular cage. Apparently, he had already unchained her wrists before she regained consciousness.

As they walked briskly, she asked weakly, "Where are you taking me?"

He looked back at her, smiled wickedly, and said, "My oubliette." He smiled wider when he saw her eyes widening in fear.

He carried her down to the lower levels of the dungeons. In these lower reaches, he kept his own secret dungeon. Its only entrance was through the ceiling. He only used it to secretly imprison people.

In the room above his private dungeon, he pushed her down through the trapdoor. She fell down to the floor far below and crumpled to the floor.

As he jumped down and landed on his feet, another figure entered the room and snuck over to the trap door. This dark figure stuck his head over the opening and watched the proceedings for a short amount of time.

Quickly, the red haired man, Gwath, came over to her and crouched down beside her. "Are you cold?" he asked surprisingly caringly, placing a hand on her shoulder. He looked down into her eyes as she lay there, huddled.

She looked up with pain in her eyes and slowly nodded, shivering.

"Let me warm you," he said, laying down beside her underneath the cloak. He wrapped his arms around her to share his body heat with her. She huddled against him, warming herself as well as she could.

Gwath pulled her tight to his chest. He twined his legs and hers, then moved his hands up to her shoulders.

As the two of them lay there with different intentions, Morgoth dropped down to the floor and said, "How dare you, Gwath?"

Immediately, Gwath extricated himself from her and bowed before the powerful personage. "She was cold," he said, trying desperately to excuse his actions.

"And what would you have done next?" he asked in his deep, rumbling voice.

"I would have brought her right back," Gwath assured him silkily.

"Wrong!" Morgoth interjected harshly, "You would have used her!"

"No, my lord! No!" Gwath tried to say, but Morgoth stopped him with one harsh, livid look of his glaring eyes.

"You and I _both_ know it to be true so do not even try to say otherwise!" Morgoth said.

"But-" Gwath tried to say. He was cut off by Morgoth's sword entering his bowels. The sword swept out of him and swept around for another merciless attack, beheading him.

"Never lie to me!" Morgoth yelled at the top of his lungs, throwing his head back.

As the Powerful One was so occupied with the now dead Gwath, Sirith had backed up into the darkness, hiding herself.

His anger now consumed in the cold of the room, Morgoth turned around a couple times, scanning the room for the elf. Unable to find her, he slowly walked around the room calling menacingly, "Sirith. Sirith. I hope you are not afraid of the dark." He advanced slowly into the dark room, looking for her. The elf covered her mouth so she would not cry out from fear.

"Please, Sirith. Do you want to stay here, in the dark and the cold? Come with me, Sirith, and you will be warm and happy," he said, trying to coax her out.

Finally, he spotted her huddled in a corner, shivering. "Help me!" she said, barely even whispering, "I am so cold!"

"Oh, Sirith!" he whispered, rushing over to her. She was trembling and shivering. "Here, Sirith," he said, wrapping his cloak around her and picking her up.

He hugged her close as he hurried over to the trap door and jumped up with one gargantuan leap to the room above. He ran from there up the stairs, the cloak fanning out behind them over the stairs like giant bat wings. His destination was a different room with braziers all around, a warmer room.

It was far warming than that dungeon below the ground. She was so cold when he placed her there that he was wondering if she was dead. Yet, he could still feel her heartbeat and her warm breathe.

For a few seconds, he huddled over her, hoping, willing that his body heat would transfer to her. It did not. A bad sign.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

When Sirith woke from the unconsciousness that was the result of her fall and her blood-loss, she immediately noticed several figures in black cloaks and robes standing around her. She could not see any of their faces, but she could still tell that they were surprised that she was awake so soon after they had started their ceremony.

The next thing that she noticed was that there was a table with multiple pieces of rather strange, ornate jewelry. Still more oddly, all of the jewelry was silver with onyx gems, or in the case of the sash, all black. At present, she wore none of this strange jewelry.

Thirdly, she noticed that her wounds from the last encounter she had been through in the corridor were all quite well tended. The tight bandages encircling her waist and stomach made it rather hard to breathe, though. The burns on her legs no longer bothered her, but they were still quite well bandaged.

Fourth and finally, she was chained by her wrists and ankles to a huge, stone block in the shape of a rectangular prism. The stone was oddly contoured for her dimensions: about two feet by nearly six feet. The block cut off right where her head stopped and two-and-a-half inches past where her pointed toes would reach. By her sides, the stone went out about two inches farther than her arms.

Going back to the shackles, her wrists were chained so that her arms were straight. Her ankles were chained down where her legs laid when they were straight. A slender, silken rope over her neck prevented her from sitting up; it was tied on either end to an iron loop firmly embedded into the rock. This rope was black.

The room was circular, with a small hallway created by evenly spaced columns about five feet apart each, except for the ones by the door. These two columns were double-spaced to accommodate the door. Between every column stood a dark, iron brazier about three and half feet tall. Every darkly colored brazier had a fire leaping in the grate. These small fires generated the only light in the room. The columns and braziers stood approximately five feet from the wall.

This made the room roughly twenty-five feet in diameter. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made from a black, glistening stone that appeared to be obsidian. The block she was chained to was shaped from one solid piece of pure, white marble, in stark contrast to the reflective, black stone around this central block. These investigations were momentary, fleeting. She quickly returned her attention from these four points of interest to the people.

As she looked around at the startled figures around her, one of them reached out and put a satin sash about two inches wide around her waist.

Once she had fully taken in what was happening and had just happened, she started to scream her very high-pitched, clear scream. Immediately, someone clamped a hand over her mouth and whispered in her ear, "You need not be conscious for this." The hand retracted, and she stayed silent.

The other sounds resumed. The cloaked figures wove patterns around her and in the air with their fingers. As they did that, they chanted complex incantations and whispered imperceptibly. It was almost murmuring. It was not unlike music, except that there was a rustling sound as their clothing shifted, and there was the tinkling of the jewellery and the jingling of the metal that made the jewellery.

Suddenly, she had heard a clanging sound, almost like steel on stone. She gasped, not audibly which saved her from being struck. There was that sound again! Now came the sound of booted feet running! What is happened, she thought. The iron door opened quickly and a hastening figure ran through, slamming the iron behind him. It was Morgoth, again.

A clear, elven voice yelled, "No! He must not complete the binding!" She heard a fury of clanging sounds, like a swordfight or a skirmish. A loud cry came drifting through the door, apparently when someone was wounded. By hearing this, she felt a sudden surge of _estel_, of hope, flood her heart and soul.

In paying attention to the sounds outside the door, she was not paying any attention the events taking place around here, namely what Morgoth was doing. He was conversing with one of the robed figures hastily in the language of the Rohirrim. He soon finished, as the swordfight continued just outside the heavy door. He returned to standing right by the door and started walking slowly toward her with measured, even paces.

Once he had reached her side, he turned first to the small table behind him. First, he picked up a well-wrought, silver necklace that had a single, black, onyx stone as the centrepiece. He wrapped it around her neck and fastened it, saying at the same time, "Linuvalye ve im," (You will sing for me) he said with conviction, "and only me."

Next, he picked up an anklet and gently fastened it around her ankle. He was hindered slightly by chains. As he did that, he said, "Falmauvalye uar im," (You will dance with me) very gently, "and only with me." He did the same with the other anklet, minus the talking.

He then returned to the table for a fourth time and picked up a brooch. It was an ornate leaf shape, just like the brooches of Lothlorien. The only difference was that the stones within this one were dead black against the silver veins. He fastened this onto her, saying at the same time, "Keluvalye sinome keluvaim." (You will go where I go.) "You will not leave me again."

The next pieces of jewelry he put on without any vocalization. He put a sash around her waist, an armband, a bracelet on her right wrist, and a ring.

For the last time, he returned to the table and picked up a coronet. This circlet was silver and after the fashion of the elven crowns of old, ornate with graceful, intricate curves. A single, onyx stone was set into the intricate, curving lines. He slowly placed this on her head. She quickly tried to shake it off her head, but he grasped it and kept it in place on her head. One of the robed figures quickly moved to strike her, but Morgoth quickly grabbed his arm and stopped him. Now, there was little, if any, movement in the room. Very slowly, the former Vala stepped closer to the elf-maid, saying at the same time, "Im tiruvalye, imo mel." (I will watch over you, my love.)

His face softened after that, and he put his hand on her cheek very gently. Very quietly, he whispered to her, "I will always love you." There was no way she could doubt his sincerity or his meaning.

Right when he finished saying that, the door burst in off its hinges and fell to the floor very loudly. In its place stood a group of green-clad elves with swords, except that one held a beautiful, carved bow of mallorn wood. One of them, apparently the leader, shouted, "Don't move!"

When she saw the elves, she called to them quickly in her clear, elven voice saying, "Edhil, gono!" (Elves, aid me!) The robed figures immediately attacked the elves, but they were dispatched quickly and easily by the skillful, elven warriors.

During this time, Morgoth had slowly and carefully walked towards her, aiming to be standing right next to her head. He reached her just as the elves dispatched the last of the robed figures with ambitions to be soldiers. The elves ran quickly towards Morgoth as he bent down. His lips puckered. He was obviously going to kiss her. She backed away as much as she could while chained to the block, but she could not escape.

Right before their lips met, an elf barreled into the Vala. Both the elf and the Vala were knocked swiftly to the floor. Two more elves soon reached the two figures in hand-to-hand combat. They both quickly stabbed the Great Enemy. She heard him cry out as that happened.

The three elves stood up, which meant that Morgoth was now in some way incapacitated doing apparently previous agreed upon jobs afterwards. Three of these elves stood watch. Two of the elves went around behind the columns to make sure no one was there. One of these two went clockwise and the other went around counterclockwise. In this search, they found three robed figures hiding behind columns. Two of the remaining elves started working to unlock her chains; these two were the ones that had stabbed Morgoth.

Once the three elves had finished unchaining and untying her, they helped her remove the black jewelry and sash that had been part of the nearly completed binding. She quickly threw the black and silver jewelry away from her, onto the stone floor.

One piece of the jewelry, the necklace, landed only a couple of feet from the Great Enemy. Weakly and very slowly, he dragged himself over to the black and silver necklace. He tenderly picked it up with his outstretched hand and brought it close to his face.

The other elves helped her down from the high, stone block. Immediately upon regaining her feet, she noticed a small table covered in a black cloth.

She barely had the strength to stand after all that had happened, so two of them helped her to stand and walk.

Before she even reached the door, a hand grasped her ankle. She tripped and nearly fell as a result, but the two elves helping her held her up. The crumpled, bleeding form of Morgoth said very weakly, "You belong to me!" One of the elves helping her quickly kicked his hand away from her ankle.

Out in the dark hallway, several figures were slumped on the floor. Several of them were bleeding, though not fatally. She assumed it was from the skirmish she had heard taking place out here.

After surveying the sparsely lit corridor, she asked, "How long has it been?"

"Two weeks," answered one of the elves helping her.

She soon asked that elf, "What was this binding?"

"The ceremony would have bound you forever to his desires and will," the same elf answered with knowledge.

"You spoke of completing the ritual. How would he have completed it?"

"To complete the ritual, he would have to kiss you."

"That is why?" she asked him, shock and disgust in her voice. He nodded solemnly. One of the other elves motioned quickly for them to hurry, but she could only manage a walk that was rather limping. She tried her best to keep up with them.

They kept running as fast as she could go for a time. Soon after, she fainted from exhaustion in the hallway. Her deliverers were forced to carry her after that.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Sirith silently opened the door to her room. As it swung open silently, she looked into the hallway outside. There were bare walls. A long row of pedestals was lined up against the wall with flowers piled gracefully and tastefully on them. She could see no sign of any other person. She silently walked over to the nearest pedestals, a column of white marble with moonflowers, hibiscus flowers, and one red rose on it.

As the elf-maiden breathed in the scent of flowers, she closed her eyes and mentally ran through the directions from the mysterious note. She walked for some time through the sunlit flowers without finding more than a turn in the long, deserted corridor.

When she did find a change, the hallway opened up to the clear, outside air and the refreshing spray of another waterfall. Around this cataract, there were hibiscus and lilac shrubs, as well as linden and holly trees, moonflowers, morning glories, lilacs, lilies, and many varieties of roses.

The passage opened directly to a stretch of grass that extended down to a small strip of rocks about five feet wide that sloped down about three or four feet to the rim of the pool the waterfall fell into. The waterfall was cut into a gracefully curving valley whose rim extended right out to the hallway.

From the clear, deep pool, a small creek, the beginnings of a river, flowed directly through a rut in the hallway floor about six inches deep. The slit continued down the hillside as an aqueduct for as far as she could see just outside the corridor on the other side. She could only see this by bending down to look through the slit the water flowed out from.

The graceful elf-maid found that this cleft in the cliff was a perfect place to bathe her healing wounds. The spot was isolated and hidden from prying eyes.

She was quite grateful for this chance to be clean and change bandages. She had not bathed her wounds in a long time, as far as she knew, and really was starting to feel unclean.

She decided to make use of this pool. No one disturbed her while she cleaned the extra scabbed blood that was stuck all over her body, even though her clothes lay under a large hibiscus shrub. For quite awhile, she reveled in cleanliness.

When she returned to the rocks from bathing her wounds, she noticed bandages stuck into a gap in the rocks where she would not have noticed them when she got into the pool. Upon seeing that, she suddenly understood what the note had meant by 'something of use'.

Carefully and rather awkwardly, she rewrapped her wounds. Once that was completed, she returned to her place of residence.

oooooooooooo

Sirith sat on a chair sitting by one of the large, symmetrical windows, staring out into the pouring rain beyond the panes of glass. She was thinking about her father, Telpegil. He was dead.

Sitting in front of her was a set of drawing supplies that Glorfindel had given her so that she would not go mad from boredom.

As she thought, she heard the door to her room open quietly. She heard footsteps approaching her slowly. She felt a gentle hand on her should. It was a warm hand with slender fingers. For some time still, she sat staring out into the torrent.

After some time, whoever it was spoke in a voice that did not belong to the elf that had visited her previously. The voice was male and spoke in Eldarin. He said, "_Lhawe, i edhel man tulant si cituva_." (Listen, the other who came to you will lie to you.)

"How can you be so sure?" she asked. As she asked this, she heard receding footsteps. Nobody answered her, so she turned to find the room empty. With that in mind, she returned to her thoughts, a new question on her mind.

oooooooooo

Glorfindel silently swung the door to Sirith's room slowly open. Upon looking inside, he found that she was standing on the balcony. Her slender figure shone in the moonlight. The light of the silvery moon reflected off her raiment and hair, as well as from the waters of the pool far below. Her skin appeared nearly luminescent in nature, and made her whole body shine like the bright moon up far above in the dark sky. The beryls and mithril holding part of her dark hair down to her skull shined like miniature green stars.

He could see why the followers of Celegorm, Curufin, and Maeglin wanted her. He could easily see her as Luthien. To him, she was absolutely beautiful. He was glad that she had been here these four months.

As he looked at her tenderly, a poem sprang to mind, improvised as he looked at her form shrouded in silvery-white moonlight.

With two bright eyes, my star, my love,

Thou lookest on the star above:

Ah, would that I the heaven might be

With a million eyes to look on thee.

Uar galad hin, imo gil, imo mel,

Tiralye i elenath tira si:

O, uva im i menel bele na

Uar rimbe hinello neftirlye.

Slowly and quietly, he walked through the moonlit room to the almost empty balcony. As he approached her slender form, he slowed down even more and ever-so-slowly made his way to Silasea's side. He reached out and touched her hand resting on the ledge. She immediately whirled around to face him with a look of surprise on her fair face and a very tense body. She looks beautiful when she is surprised, and other times, he reflected. Her green eyes widened and her body relaxed visibly when she saw him.

He decided that he should comfort her, and maybe apologize for frightening her. "It is only me," he said rather quickly yet still reassuringly. She let out the breathe she did not know she had been holding and narrowed her eyes to their natural width. She quickly changed her posture until she came to stand before him, not nearly as tense as before. "I came to see how you were adjusting," he said, continuing on with calming her gently.

"I am doing quite well, thank you," she said. She actually sounded sincerely, and not a hint of sarcasm colored her tone. She seemed quite calm, if somewhat on her guard.

He gestured to the noisy waterfall and said, "A beautiful night, wouldn't you say?" He personally found that she dimmed the beauty of the dark night with her radiant, shining form. He turned to look at the waterfall and heard her doing the same quietly.

"Indeed, yes." He thought that her answer was far too brief of an answer, but it was a start. Surprisingly, she continued by saying, "What happened to Morgoth?"

"The warriors who came for you severely wounded him," he said.

"I saw that much. What I meant was: Is he alive?"

"I don't know," he said slightly worriedly.

"_Esselye na Silasea_," he said in his clear, elven voice. Her head snapped up and turned to look at him as he talked in her native language. Hopefully, she had reacted mostly from his name, and not just from the fact that he was speaking in Sindaran.

"What did you say?" she asked in surprise and disbelief. She had answered very quickly, with surprise and recognition in her voice. Glorfindel was suddenly quite hopefully that she did remember and had merely hidden that fact.

"_Esselye na Silasea."_ (Your name is Silasea.)

"_Unin_!" (Not me!) As she said this, she unsuccessfully tried to step away from him. She really does not remember, he thought sadly.

"_Esselye na Silasea! Rinlye_!" (Remember!) He took her waist and pulled her slender body in close so she would not run from him. She would remember! She MUST remember! She quickly fought to free herself from his grip. Her eyes suddenly went immensely wide, and her skin whitened to a deathly pale hue. She collapsed wordlessly and quite soundlessly on the spot right into his waiting arms.

Quickly and jostling her as little as possible, he adjusted his grip so that he would not harm her and carried her over to the bed. He laid her down gently on the mattress. He left knowing she had remembered and would be alright in times to come.

Neither of them had any inkling as to the fact that they were being observed by two dark, slender figures on the other balcony higher up. In fact, neither of them had any idea that they were, in fact, being watched for reactions.

One of these two figures said to the other figure in a quiet tone that was blank of emotion, "Let us hope she does not remember that we made her forget."

"That would be most disastrous," answered the other slender figure.

oooooooooooooo

A dark, cloaked figure watched over Sirith Silasea for the whole time that she was in the grasp of Glorfindel. He would watch her while she stood out on the balcony, in her sleep, and anywhere else she went in the compound. He was waiting for the time to take her back from her kinsmen, the elves.

So far in his wait, he had been quite patient; but when she had fainted, he had almost rushed over to help her. When Glorfindel laid her on the bed, he had whispered, "Silasea." He had wanted to reach out and touch her so badly that it was almost unbearable. Once she was alone, he rushed to her, climbing for over a minute to get to her.

He found her asleep, her hair pooling behind her in dark rivulets. He slowly touched her face and whispered in a voice that laid bare all of his agony, "Please, remember me! Please, think of me! Silasea, my one and only love, my reason for life, please!"


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Sirith woke in the now-familiar room and instantly thought that she was not Sirith but Silasea! She was surprised that she had completely forgotten, but then she remembered when she had first heard of Glorfindel's death. She had been filled with grief and had wanted to forget all about that horrid time in her life, so she did. Thankfully, she remembered all now, or so she thought. A least she knew that Glorfindel was alive again! He had probably been combing the whole of Middle Earth for her for many, many years!

Her eyes opened very widely as she remembered yet another memory. She had not merely forgotten! Someone had offered her a way to forget the many terrible things she had experienced, but she could not remember who it was that had offered her such a chance. She now felt rather saddened that she had trusted that person, whoever they were.

The elf that had recently experienced amnesia turned her thoughts to her surroundings, even though she was getting quite accustomed to them. She sat up to get a better view. Instead of concentrating on her surroundings like she had planned, she spent several minutes bathing her white-clothed back in the sun's warm rays once more. She stayed in a similar position to enjoy the warmth before turning slightly to look around as she had originally intended.

As she looked around at her sunlit surroundings, Silasea saw Glorfindel once again. He was staring out at the rising sun glinting off the waters falling down the cliff steadily. She recognized him as the elf that had visited her previous, but she now knew him to be her lover from so many years ago that she had thought to be dead. This time she was not curious and wary of him. She was ecstatic to see him alive and well. Because of this she immediately exclaimed, "Glorfindel!" in a joyous, ecstatic voice.

At this happy exclamation, he turned toward her, a hopeful smile on his fair face. She quickly rose from the bed and rushed over to him. He quickly opened his arms and enveloped her in the embrace she had missed so much without knowing it. She smiled warmly and tenderly, taking comfort in his strong, caring arms.

After awhile spent in such a fashion, he asked, "_Golodhlye si_?" (Do you remember now?) His tone loved and tender, yet still curious.

"_Rinim lye, Glorfindel, a golodhim nantfirnlye_." (I remember you Glorfindel, but I thought you were dead.) Her tone also showed a wealth of affection and love, but it also showed much curiosity.

"_Nantongolodhim nantfirnlye. Golodhim nantcoilye_." (I was also told that you were dead. I knew you were alive, though.

"_Maan nantongolodh?" _(By whom?)

"_I waith maan pedantim estelye_." (Those whom I called upon to help you.)

_"I man nantongolodh_?" (And who was that?)

"_I vedui khil Celegormello, Curufinello, a Maeglinello_." (The last followers of Celegorm, Curufin, and Maeglin)

"What?"

"_Nanthain i sinomeim pel hirlye."_ (They were the only people I could go to for the two of us to be together once more.)

"What did you promise them?" she asked worriedly. She knew that these two specific followings only did things for a price, or if they served the personal agendas of the leaders of these factions.

"I told them that if I couldn't make you remember, I would give you to them. Also, if I was able to get you to remember and you did not want to be with me anymore, I would still give you to them," he said regretfully.

"Why do they _peda im_?" (Want me) she asked, reverting to her native language near the end.

"Some of the factions want you for rather good reasons, but some of them want you for less noble reasons, like revenge, or… other things."

"And if I remember and want to be with you?"

"They did not say," he said very worriedly, pulling her closer into his protective arms.

"And you trusted them?" she asked, actually exclaimed.

"Not exactly. I had to go along with their idea, but I had a back-up plan," he said with a smile that she could not see, enfolded as she was.

"What is this plan of yours?"

"_Autuvaim met Lothlorieno_." (I was going to bring you to Lothlorien.)

"_Kelomet Lothlorieno si!"_ (Let us go to Lothlorien now!)

"I have a surprise for you first. Follow me," he said excitedly. As he said that, he led her out the door and down the long hallway in the same direction that she had travelled previously. He led her past the place where she had bathed to another opening in the long corridor. The abrupt end of these walls showed a lawn of meadow flowers and grasses. In the central area of the lawn was a small ovular shape of what looked like grass with only speckled wildflowers across its ovular area.

Silasea looked at Glorfindel inquiringly, inclining her head at the same time to indicate curiosity. Glorfindel smiled and said, "Wait here and close your eyes. Face the cliff. I will be back soon." His voice had a ring to it that was guaranteeing that what he said was true.

She did as he said, trusting him completely. She heard him leave very quietly as she sat down on the grass merely speckled instead of overflowing with wildflowers. Patiently, she closed her eyes and waited for Glorfindel's return.

As she waited, she began to remember much more about the years that had been subjected to amnesia in her mind. Thankfully, these memories were not permanently erased, but buried deeply within her subconscious mind. She could now remember much about her home, Gondolin, and several of her meetings with Glorfindel.

As she was remembering a particularly random fact about the placement of a rock by the clear waters of the falls on the south side of the city, she heard someone walking slowly through the flowers surrounding her. This person walked around to face her; then he approached her, still very slowly and carefully. They stopped right in front of her. She felt a hand on the left side of her face and, slightly later, on the other side. The opposable digits of these hands gently stroked her cheekbones, keeping her face always cupped between the two, soft hands.

A few relaxed seconds passed in complete stillness. It was not a tense stillness, but rather like a calm, clear night, sweet and mysterious. Soon, very soon, soft lips pressed against her own lips firmly, as if there was tension in the mind of this person, and very tenderly.

"_Edrolye lyohenen si_," (You can open your eyes now.) Said the person in a high, clear, elven voice that was obviously male. She did so and saw Glorfindel squatting in front of her with something on the ground in front of her. She looked down and saw a cloak and a brooch, both of marvelous work. She recognized the cloak immediately as the cloak she had worn in the Elder Days long ago. She had hidden it beside those very same falls when she had learned of Glorfindel's supposed death. It had reminded her too much of Glorfindel for her to bear. He must have found it and known I was alive, she thought.

The cloak was the sort worn by the elves of Gondolin many years ago. Currently, it appeared to be a dark green in color, but she knew that it would appear to shift colors as the light around it was changed. The brooch was made of mithril with a beryl set into it. This brooch was fashioned into the shape of a many-pointed star with the elf-stone at its center.

Upon seeing these relics of a distant pass, she smiled and once more folded into his embrace. After a time, she broke away and put the cloak on quickly. As she fastened the brooch in place at her shoulder, she asked, "_Si kela Lothlorien_?" (Now to Lothlorien?)

"_Met ukele_," (You will not be able to do that.) said a voice from behind her. It was quite obviously elven and male, by tonal qualities. Both of them quickly turned around to see a pair of elves by the door. They were apparently brothers from the resemblance. These two were Celegorm and Curufin. One of these two, probably Curufin, had come to her to warn her that Glorfindel would lie to her, which he had not done. "Why so silent? Did you think that I had left you for good?"

Immediately, Silasea exclaimed, "_Firnantlye_!" (You were both dead)

"No, _hiril_," Celegorm said with a smile. "It was just a flesh wound that some deemed mortal. One of which, by the way, you were the cause of," answered Celegorm. She gasped as she saw a bandage covering his side in the exact spot where she had been told Telperinfin was stabbed. That seemed so long ago when she was in Imladris.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" Glorfindel asked, or rather exclaimed.

"_Met na si an lye_, Nymphet," (We are here for you) Curufin said, tilting his head to the side predatorily. This made both Glorfindel and Silasea shudder because they could both well image what that entailed. Glorfindel's face looked like that of an enraged lover, which is exactly what he was, on second thought. Silasea's face was very pale, beyond what she normally was. In her eyes was a look of horror and sheer terror, yet she still held herself high.

_"Enukeluvalye imello_!" (You will not take her from me again!) Glorfindel yelled at the two brothers, afraid that he would lose her. His voice showed the great anguish that he had endured when he heard of her supposed death, and anger that they were going to try. Also, there was revulsion of what they planned to do with his love.

"Quite the contrary, you cannot escape. I would suggest that you cooperate, unless you want to get… injured," said Curufin, smiling a sickening, sadistic smile. He would enjoy any pain Glorfindel had to live through this time.

With those words, several elven warriors marched into the room in a very orderly fashion. As soon as they entered, Glorfindel took up a defensive position in front of Silasea, pulling her half way behind his body. "I warned you," said Celegorm with a certain amount of vindictive pleasure in his voice as he signaled to the warriors to advance upon the Elf Lord. "I should add," he continued, "they have been ordered not to harm the Lady here," he said, gesturing gracefully to Silasea. "But we may have to so that you will surrender. Also these warriors will not hesitate to kill you." Despite these words, Glorfindel continued to defend Silasea.

As Glorfindel fought desperately to defend Silasea, Celegorm went around him to the elf-maiden. He quickly grabbed her arms from behind so she would not escape. Celegorm forced her to watch, turn her head with one of his strong hands, as the warriors closed in around her lover. While he did that, he whispered into her ear, "Buy his freedom with your love!" Glorfindel fought with his sword until he was disarmed. At this point, he continued to fight bare-handed, dodging the blades of his foes deftly. Unfortunately, he was knocked unconscious when he fell ducking the blade of one of his attackers.

Silasea immediately ran over to the unconscious form of Glorfindel, breaking away from Celegorm's grip, slightly more lax since she stopped fighting back, in the process. Tears were streaming from her eyes. She was dragged away by Curufin. She fought against him and broke free of his grasp. The frightened elf-maiden ran from him, right into the form of Celegorm.

He grabbed her arms and held them tightly to his chest. He stood there holding her in place while she fought to free herself, crying profusely. Eventually, she stopped fighting back and tears were not streaming down her fair face. When she did stop, she laid her head down on his chest. As she did that, he let go of her arms and, in a very caring gesture, enfolded her in his arms. He stood there with her for many long minutes, taking not very secret pleasure at her nearness to him.

After awhile, she tried to pull away from him again, disgusted with herself for letting him see her emotions thus poured out. At this point, he pulled, almost dragged, her away from the field of flowers while some of their followers removed the unconscious body of her lover from there. As they removed his body, he dragged her through the halls and practically threw her into her room forcefully, her cloak spread out in disarray behind her. Quickly, Celegorm picked up the rose and left her to break down once more. He too contemplated it because he had not sent it either. The guards took Glorfindel to a cell so he would not escape his angered, controlling grasp.

After over an hour lying in a sobbing heap on the floor, Silasea heard the enchanting melody of an obviously elven voice singing to the sound of a harp. Curious, she dragged herself over to the balcony. Slowly, she pulled herself up to look at the waterfall.

Sitting beside the pool far below was a dark figure playing a harp. He soon heard her labored breathe and looked up straight at her. Coming over to the balcony proved to be too much for her and she passed out, not to wake for some time.

Over the next several months, Celegorm would come to Silasea every day to ask her for her hand. Every time she would reject him.


	16. Chapter 15

_The song is obviously not mine, but the elvish translation I am proud to say I did myself._

**Chapter Fifteen**

About a week and a half after that last incident, Silasea was sitting on the window sill in the same room she had been in before. Her thoughts kept going over and over the circumstances she had now found herself in.

These repetitive reflections were interrupted by a melody. It was a quiet, enchanting melody played by a violin. The music was sweet and slow. At a good breaking point, she heard a full measure rest. When the music resumed, it was no longer a violin, but now a harp. This musician was very talented if they could switch instruments so swiftly.

Silently, she got to her feet and walked out to the balcony. She slowly looked around below her. In her leisurely search, she immediately found the musician. He sat on the root of a tree near the water's edge. Carefully, she sat on the edge of the balcony.

The song he now played was very familiar. She had sung it many times in Lothlorien, Mirkwood, and even Imladris. When the words started in the song, the musician started to sing.

Home is behind

The world ahead

And there are many

Paths to tread

Going into the next verse, she sang along with this elven singer. He hesitated for half a beat in surprise, and then continued to sing with her, looking around at the same time to find the person singing with him.

Through shadow

To the edge of night

Until the stars

Are all alight

By this time he had searched all around him, hunting with his eyes. He now decided to look up. He searched the entire rim before looking the other way. That process took up the next verse.

Mist and shadow

Cloud and shade

All shall fade.

All shall fade

At this point, he looked away from the rim of the cleft, toward the balcony. When he saw her sitting there in a sea foam green dress that flowed in the light wind, he stopped singing and playing his small harp. She, however, continued to sing. She switched to elvish this time.

I dor pella

Bar na palan

Ar hin Na rim

Cirith kel

Athesse

I telesse du

I elenath

Na ilye Kal

Hith ar morchaint

Fana ar gwath

Ilye firith

Ilye firith

Shortly after finishing the song, she heard heavy footsteps approaching. They were extremely familiar to her because they signaled Celegorm's approach multiple times each week.

Quickly, she ducked back into her room, leaving the musician to stare at where she was with burning, yet familiar eyes.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Several months later, Silasea lay on the grass in a meadow, staring up at the night sky. The brightness of the silvery moon shone down on her as she thought of the ordeal of living through the past several months.

She often sat there in the cold and the fading light of the coming winter. Sometimes she was alone, and sometimes with others. Her persistent captors, Celegorm and Curufin, often came to ask, yet again, for her hand.

They had tried several different strategies to gain her hand. They had tried to send her on a guilt trip, like that would work. They had threatened to kill Glorfindel, yet they had never followed through. They had even tried to show her his good side, if such a thing exists.

The one kind companion and the only compassionate company she had enjoyed in these many long months was the singer in the garden. He had turned out to be an invaluable friend since she had met him again that day when he was just a strange musician. He was completely irreplaceable. He knew how to comfort her and to divert her attention from the unpleasant situation to which fate had abandoned her.

Her friend would visit almost daily. She was very grateful for what little time she was allowed with anyone besides the Two Brothers. She was also quite glad that he still maintained a certain amount of distance and gave her some small amount of time to be alone.

As she thought, she heard light, nearly silent footsteps coming her way. They were elven footsteps. This was the way he, Silamor normally came when she was here. The elf proceeded to her side, lightly stepping on the cooling ground. Once there, he sat near her side.

Soon after, he started to play on his violin. She knew the song well and began to sing. Through the whole song, she never looked away from the stars. As the final chord was struck, she sighed.

Both of them sat in silence for awhile, until she asked him curiously without looking away from the bright stars, "Any news?"

"You will remember that Isengard has attacked Rohan at Helm's Deep some days past. The orcs were defeated by a coalition of men of Rohan, elves from Imladris… and Ents."

"_Enyd_?" (Ents?) she asked, very surprised.

"Yes. I am surprised as you are that they have woken from their long slumber."

"What woke them?"

"_Perrianath_," (Hobbits) he said.

"_Haradwaith_?" (From the North) she asked, confused slightly.

"Yes. Isengard was destroyed."

"Truly?"

"Yes. A large army of orcs has marched forth from Minas Morgul."

She gasped quite audibly. Maikaglin continued gravely, "They march on Minas Tirith."

"No," she said in disbelief and shock.

"Rohan rides to their aide, thankfully for them."

"It has begun," she said, still shocked that they would march on Minas Tirith.

"Indeed," he said solemnly.

"_Queta Mirkwoodello. Nantim buletaur er_." (Remember our deal? Tell me more of Mirkwood. I have been to those deep forests but once.) When she said the last two words, she looked over to him in a very friendly way yet unintentionally provocatively. She soon returned her gaze to the sparkling stars as he spoke of the deep places of Mirkwood and the darkness of the ancient trees near the mountains. As he talked, he moved to a position mirroring her own, but less than a foot away from her side.

After a time, he lapsed into blissful silence. Once a minute had passed, she implored him in a contented, playful tone, "Tell me more." She closed her eyes contentedly and pictured all he had already told her, smiling widely from pleasure.

However, the playful note in her voice had aroused him, but he did not want to ruin the trusting friendship that had developed between them. He tried desperately to hide it without too much movement. Then, something happened that prevented him from hiding it.

As she laid there smiling, she felt a sudden, light breeze against her arm. It was gone as soon as she felt it.

Curiously, she opened her eyes, still smiling, and found Silamor's pale face merely inches away from her own. His slender body was suspended over her so that she felt none of his weight, little as it was. This was one time when his motives were a mystery.

The two remained there for a short amount of time, staring at each other. "What are you doing?" she asked him indignantly.

"Quiet! Celegorm is looking for you. He just walked past here," he whispered. His breathe wafted gently onto her skin. Her face was so close to his own face, set into a protective expression.

"Is he gone?" she whispered questioningly yet barely audibly. Her trust in him was immediately restored upon hearing his explanation.

"No. He heard you speak, but he is not sure if it truly was you. He is standing and looking through this meadow, probably deciding whether or not to investigate," he explained quietly. They laid there for some time in silence, hiding from Celegorm.

After a rather long stretch of time (as mortals would call it), both of them heard an exclamation, obviously Celelgorm's voice, "Where is she? Where is she?" He was angry, jealous, and inquisitive. Then, she heard heavy, hurried footsteps retreating down the hallway.

After several seconds, the elven warrior looked up to the hallway. He quickly changed his glance so that he was staring at her once more, and then said, "He is gone." Once he had said that, he stood up and helped her up gently as well.

Suddenly, a playful smile flashed across his face. He asked her, "Would you like to see some different scenery?"

"That would be wonderful," she said in a content tone, smiling once more quite tenderly.

"Come, then. We may find a way to leave from there," he said, smiling warmly and very comfortingly. As soon as he said 'way to leave', her eyes brightened hopefully.

Gracefully, he led her away from the meadow, through the stone hallway and out a rather small opening in the smooth wall.

As the two elves walked, neither of them made any sound when their feet trod carefully. Though the elf-maid's blue and silver shading dress with no shoulders slid across the floor, it was completely silent. As she walked, the two mithril straps holding the dress up glinted and glistened in the moonlight.

Maikaglin, the taller of the two by several inches, wore almost entirely black clothes. A rough, silver edging on his coat was the only part that reflected moonlight. The rest merely absorbed the light in the dark folds.

Both elves had glistening, almost translucent, white skin that glinted and sparkled like diamonds in the moonlight. They both also had midnight black hair that reflected moonlight and starlight, yet the color still remained pure black pooling downward to their shoulders, and further in Silasea's case.

The small path Silamor now led her to wound through forests for miles in the moonlight. As they walked along the moonlit path, hand in hand, they continued their conversation of the Elven Realms, no longer fearing intrusion from Celegorm.

At one point in a lapse in the conversation, Silasea exclaimed, "_Thilataur, celebrinmorlassi, calhith tirimo_." (Forest shining with silver light with silver and black leaves, light mist, look toward me.)

"_Oialeime tiralyeo_," (Everything looks toward you) he said sincerely.

"_Hena i iluva hi nant rant. Yes na iluveim na si_." (Yet see what problems it has caused. It is why I am here) she said sadly and regretfully.

Finally, the dark trees coated in silver opened to a small meadow. Straight ahead was an iron gate in a high wall of stone blocks. Inside the enclosure was a rather large, sylvan garden with ferns and flowers that glinted silver in the starlight.

Quickly, Silamor led Silasea to the gate that was rather delicate in appearance and opened it hastily. He quickly led her through to the forested garden beyond. He did take the time to close and lock the gate carefully behind him to make it appear as though no one was there.

Once he had finished that, he led her down a little-used path, more like a game trail, through the sylvan garden. It was the longest, most meandering path through the 25 square miles of forest enclosed by the single, stone wall ringing it.

They conversed as they slowly followed the path, appreciating the centennial trees and blooming shrubs, blossoming with the last growth of the year that shone with a silver-white light of the coming snow.

After several hours spent in such a pattern, they reached the end of the trail. At this end was another gate, different from the previous one in that it was wooden, not solely made of iron.

Before returning to the complex, they paused just inside the iron-bound gate to prolong their time together away from the Two Brothers and other prying eyes. They wanted to lengthen their time in privacy.

He turned around to face her, always staying close to her. He gently pulled her closer to him and put one hand lightly on her waist. She tenderly rested one hand on his heart and one on his other arm, near the elbow. She tipped her head slowly down until it rested on his cheek.

He felt that returning to the complex was ominous, just as ominous and disheartening as she thought it was. This is why he had searched for a way out. He did have one other reason, but that was hidden deep within his heart.

He knew that, eventually, Celegorm would discover just how much time he spent with her, and would probably kill him for daring such a thing. Therefore, it was prudent and wise for him to leave as well.

Softly, he began to sing to her, comforting her. He knew that she was worried and slightly frightened about what Celegorm would do if he got too impatient in his search for her.

As he sang, the mood and feeling he exuded said that he could not bear her to be unhappy.

For a time, the two elves stood together in blissful silence. After a time, he moved his lips to her ear.

"If it weren't for stupid Celegorm, I'd have to whisk you away right here and now," he said longingly.

The elf-maid merely sighed, thinking of such a pleasing scene as that.

Another stretch of silence grew and grew until he said, "Silasea, he will soon come here to look for you." She tensed visibly at this thought.

"Where does this path lead to?" she asked curiously, trying not to think of going back to Celegorm.

"Figuratively, it leads to your freedom. Literally, it leads to the source of the Nimrodel, which is two leagues to the South. From there we can follow the Nimrodel to Lothlorien," he said informatively.

"What of Glorfindel?" Should I just leave him here, a prisoner?" she asked in a pained voice that showed her sadness.

"He would want you to get away from that monster," Silamor said convincingly, spitting out the last word. He gently lifter her chin with two of his fingers so that he could look into her vivid eyes. It would be all the easier to convince her then, when she could saw how badly he wanted her to get away.

Sadly, she said, "I do not know if I can leave him. If I leave now, Celegorm-." Before she could continue, he gently pressed a finger to her soft lips.

"Do not worry about Celegorm," he said quietly and earnestly. She gently grasped his slender wrist and removed the finger pressing on her lips.

"Celegorm would take out his anger with me on Glorfindel. I cannot have that on my conscience," she said convincingly and slightly heatedly. She raised her head as she spoke, now looking up into his eyes several inches higher than her own, green eyes.

"Your chance is now to get out. You will not get a second time," Silamor said worriedly and yet quite caringly. He put his hand on her cheek as he finished saying this.

"Once you can guarantee that Glorfindel will not be harmed because of me, I will leave," Silasea said. Her voice had the seal of promise on it, but she was still quite earnest and solemn in what she said.

"If we do not leave now, we may not be able to leave later." His voice was also quite convincing as well as earnest and serious. He was concerned not only for his own safety but for hers as well.

"Allow me to leave with a clear conscience, please," Silasea said while putting one of her hands up on his shoulder gently. Her voice was pleading and sad.

Silamor sighed in defeat. Then he said compromisingly, "If you wait here, in hiding, I will go back and see what I can do for Glorfindel's safety."

"Thank you so much." She quickly looked around and said, "Come back to this exact spot and I will reveal myself to you."

"For you, this delay is well worth it," he said, running his slender fingers up and down along her spin.

As the two of them stood there together, they heard the snap of a twig breaking nearby. Both of them immediately knew who and what that was.

Before he even thought about it, her friend had scooped her up gently in his arms and ran to the largest of the nearby trees that was near the edge of the clearing. Deftly, he climbed the tree and set her high up in the branches, hoping fervently that no one would notice her before he got back and was able to protect her and be with her.

Before he climbed back down from the tree, Silasea quickly placed her hand on his cheek and whispered to him, "_Tulo imello, mellon_!" (Hurry back to me, friend!)

"_Imuva, imo mellon_," (I will, my friend) he said comfortingly and very tenderly. For a second he thought that he had given away his true feelings with the tenderness. Then, he said, "I'll not lose you to him!"

Quickly, he climbed back down the tree, jumping from branch to branch like a squirrel. He was afraid that she had discovered his true feelings for her. Hastily, he ran back in the direction they had come, trying to outrun his fear. As an elf, he could run much farther much faster than any mortal could.

Silasea quickly settled in to wait for him. This place she was in was among the upper branches of a tree of great girth. It was relatively comfortable while still being out of sight and relatively comfortable while still being out of sight and relatively easy to get down from.

As she waited quietly and solemnly, she pictured all of the things that she had talked about with Maikaglin and all of the things he had told her of. She was able to picture all the things clearly and vividly using her imagination.

Silasea thought much of the elven lands sunk beneath the Sundering Sea. She remembered the forest of Doriath where the Elven River rolled, as well as the beautiful city of Gondolin, nestled in the mountains that were no more.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a figure running into the clearing-like area. They stopped in the center and started looking around up into the treetops. After a short search, he spotted her. All he did was lift his hand and motion with one finger for her to come down. Frustrated, she complied. It was Celegorm, as she had feared.

As soon as she entered the clearing, he ran to her. His hands formed strong manacles around her wrists. He pulled her along down the path towards the complex.

As he dragged her slender form along, she asked, "How did you know I was here?"

He ignored her question and quickly dragged her back to her room in the complex. He locked her in forcefully. To make sure no one could help her out, he took the key and barred the door with a large, heavy, wooden bar.


	18. Chapter 17

The poem is Emily Dickinson's _With a Flower._

**Chapter Seventeen**

Silasea stood out on the balcony adjoining her room, staring out at the silvery moon. Her tears obscured her vision to the point of almost total blindness. Her mind was in turmoil because of what had happened earlier. She was just starting to get over the shock of remembering who she was, and her mind could not seem to get over their confrontation with Celegorm and Curufin. She was starting to lose hope because they had defeated and confined Glorfindel. Now she was trapped in this single room with no way out except the rocks far enough below to kill her if she were to jump. So many things had happened to them that she was wondering if everything was not being set up by someone.

As she reminisced, she saw a dark shape moving across the garden toward her. They reached the bottom and climbed up to the balcony before dropping to their feet beside her.

"Are you alright?" Silamor asked tenderly and worriedly, whispering quietly into her ear. His face was the same pure, white color she remembered from Dol Guldur and the many, many times she and he had met and talked. It was handsome and well-shaped. His eyes were blue and warm in the light of the moon, and very different from her deep, green eyes. For once, his eyes showed as much emotion as hers betrayed.

"Yes," Silasea murmured in confusion while breaking away from him and turning her face away as well. Fervently, she hoped that all traces of tears were gone, yet knowing that such a thing was beyond unlikely. This effort did little good. Strain and the multiple recent events overwhelmed her. Though she fought desperately to control them, the tears came again, sliding down her soft cheeks.

"_Kel_, please," (leave) she said, squeezing her eyes shut. She was pleading sadly and silently for him to either leave or somehow comfort her.

She felt the softness of green velvet brush against her arm very lightly. Then, she felt a hand touch her cheek gently. Its fingers were slender, sensitive, and strong. Those warm fingers brushed away the tears from her face. The fingers gently lifted her chin and turned her head away from the moonlight.

She opened her eyes to see Silamor staring down at her with compassion in his eyes. She stared back into his eyes, which still held their sharp glance, even filled with compassion and sympathy as they were. His refined, elven features showed pain and worry. His face was framed by long, dark hair (all elves have long hair).

She could feel Silamor's slender body, hard and muscular beneath his velvet uniform, press against hers with much strength held back. He was so close to her that she could feel his warm, fragrant breathe on her face as he spoke saying, "_Nalye unallo_." (Do not cry.) He spoke softly, wiping away more tears in the process. When he spoke again, he spoke in Westron about how he had missed her since Celegorm had prevented them from escaping. He had been completely unable to see her since then, until now. He had managed to procure the key to her room.

Slowly, he leaned in closer to her, still holding her gently in one of his arms. Then, she felt soft lips brush against hers. His strong arms held her while he closed his eyes and gently kissed her. Silasea's eyes widened in surprise, and then closed quickly. Silasea found herself responding to his kiss. In his thoughts, Silamor just knew that he must _not_ let go, ever.

Quickly, she remembered Glorfindel and began to struggle to free herself from his iron grip. His strong arms would not allow her to move even an inch from him.  
Abruptly, he allowed her to break away from his grasp. As he did that, she said, "No. _Uhina maan. Kelolye an si?" _(This is not right. Why did you come?) She turned her face away from him to hide her anguish.

Suddenly, she felt completely ashamed of herself, remembering at the same time a day many long yeni (long elven years of 144 solar years) ago in Gondolin. She had met with Glorfindel many times in their tree on the south side of the city. Mostly, she remembered Glorfindel doing almost exactly what Silamor had just done: coming to comfort and console her. As she thought this, she broke completely from him in guilt, turning her back on him as well.

At this less than subtle rejection, Silamor sighed and said sadly, "I have been hiding something from you, Silasea."

Quickly, she turned to face him. "What?" she demanded.

"_Naim Melkor,"_ he said hesitantly.

Silasea pushed away from him again, turning her head away from him to hide her fear and anguish.

She could hear him walk in swiftly behind her. When he stopped, he said, "_Unaim aran, naim edhel a im mellye._" (I may not be a king, but I still truly love you.)

Melkor noticed very quickly that her breathing was ragged, like she was scared or greatly disturbed. She sat down on the bed, keeping her back turned. She heard footsteps coming towards her once more. Next, she felt a hand on either shoulder, gently rubbing her. She flinched away from him.

He kept his soft hands firmly in place on her arms. Before he could do more to her, she laid herself flat on the bed and twisted around using her superior flexibility to look at him. This entire maneuver of hers took place in less than half a second. Only one emotion registered on her delicate features. She was completely and totally aghast. "Stay away from me!" she whispered barely loud enough for him to hear.

"Please, I love you…" he whispered. She ignored his pleas and backed up against the wall to get away from him.

He moved his pale hands to place them gently on her shoulders, but she flattened herself onto the wall to stay away from him. At that motion of hers, he let his arms drop back to his sides. Quietly, he whispered a short poem to her.

I hide myself within a flower

That wearing on your breast,

You, unsuspecting, wear me too-

And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,

That, fading from your vase,

You, unsuspecting, feel for me

Almost loneliness.

"_Onantlye i lote uar mor cirgollo nef telco_?" (You sent the roses with black ribbon tied to the stem?) She asked, finally starting to put together some of the pieces of this rather confusing puzzle.

"Yes," he said fervently, moving to touch her cheek with one hand. She moved slightly to avoid him, so he slowly withdrew his hand. Following her rejection, she saw him back up quickly to give her more space. A small sigh escaped his lips. She watched him carefully as he backed up and put a new rose with the same black ribbon tied to the stem on the table. A small note was beside it. It said: 'Anon im' (Forgive me). She found that much later.

"_Na usinome Celegorm maanore_," (Do not trust too much to Celegorm's good nature.) he said sadly. With that, he quietly walked out the door. He closed the door almost all the way, then stuck his head back in to look at her sad form. He said, _"Maan_ _du… Silasea."_ (Good night) He closed the door right then. He carefully and silently locked the door again and barred the door again. His slow footsteps betrayed his new depression as he walked away sadly.

When she could no longer hear his dejected footsteps, she collapsed in a heap, sobbing.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Glorfindel returned to consciousness propped up against the stone walls of a small cell with one, small window admitting a small amount of light. He was chained to the wall by his wrists and his ankles. The manacles were heavy and wrought from iron. He could only move to three feet away from the wall when thus chained.

Suddenly, he remembered what had happened and how he had come to be here. He started pulling on the chains with frustration that he had been so ineffective to help Silasea. He then remembered that the events he remembered were several months past.

Soon, he became angry at Celegorm and Curufin for interrupting them when they had met after many years of separation, and had missed each other so much. Why did they have to take her from his just then?

His angry and frustrated reflections were cut short by the sound of the iron door to his cell creaking open quickly. Celegorm stepped into the cell with a smirk on his face. That smirk made Glorfindel run to the full length of the chain again, trying to attack Celegorm. He was angry. Celegorm's smirking face broke out in laughter as Glorfindel was jerked back by the manacles. In light of his abortive attack, he said, "_Silasea na imo!"_ (Silasea is mine!)

"Did you just take her from me to gloat over my failure to protect her?" Glorfindel exclaimed disgustedly.

"No. I have my own reasons for wanting her as well," Celegorm said, smiling in a way that sickened and slightly frightened Glorfindel.

"What she need right now is comfort, not another betrayal on your part," the captured elf said angrily.

"Yes. Guess who will be comforting her. We'll see how you fare with your lover in my arms!" Celegorm said with a wide, wry smile of superiority.

"Why do you want her?" Glorfindel exclaimed very angrily, indignation building inside him like a flame.

"_Melim Silasea._ I love her as I loved Luthien," Celegorm said. He actually sounded sincere when he said that.

"_Im mel Silasea!"_ (So do I) Glorfindel exclaimed argumentatively. He needed Celegorm to understand that point.

"Yes, but uhenuvalye enomentielvo!" (You won't see her again) Celegorm said that happily, a smirk once more on his face.

"No!" Glorfindel said while launching himself at Celegorm. The chains jerked him back once more.

"Would you like to see her?" Celegorm asked, inclining his with actual curiosity on his face instead of a sick mockery of it.

"Would you actually let me see her or would you withhold her from me again?" Glorfindel asked and sort of exclaimed at the same time.

"I will show her to you," he said with a wide, non-wry smile on his face. This made Glorfindel very suspicious of him, but a chance to see her was not something he would pass by without trying that course of action.

Celegorm quickly called for the guards. They came and unchained Glorfindel, then dragged him through the long corridors to a different room. In the center was what looked like a birdbath. The problem was that it was indoors. The room was completely empty save for that.

"Where is Silasea?" he asked very suspiciously upon seeing that she was not in the room they had brought him to.

"Safe," Celegorm said curtly. Quickly, he signaled to the guards. They quickly dragged him over to the strange basin.

Once Glorfindel was firmly held in place kneeling by the basin, Celegorm walked confidently over to him. He said, "Look into the mirror and you will see Silasea." He was quite confident of what he said.

"Does this show the present?" Glorfindel asked quite warily. He wanted to know as much as he could of this basin before looking into it.

"Yes. It also shows the past and many possible futures," Celegorm said in an off-hand way, almost absentmindedly.

"What if I can't tell the time period?" he asked quickly, worried about what he would do in that case.

"That is your own problem, not mine," Celegorm said happily. He was glad that he was causing problems for his rival.

At that somewhat dubious explanation of the basin's workings, Glorfindel cautiously looked into the water of the basin. The water reflected the glass ceiling above him. Outside, the sky was cloudy and snow nearly totally obscured the sky.

Immediately upon looking inside, he saw a vision like a reflection in the water. He saw Silasea, but she was obviously not in the compound. He could not tell what time it was in.

_ The vision showed Silasea smiling in a sunlit garden, obviously not the present because it was winter. She was running and glancing back often at someone, and smiling joyously. It looked like she was racing the person somewhere. Obviously, she was winning._

_ She raced into a bright, flower-filled meadow and slowed to a walk. She started talking happily to that person, then started laugh. Gracefully, she spun around on her toes to face the person._

_ A dark figure that seemed to absorb the sunlight came into view. He, for he was male, was several inches taller than the elf-maiden. He was laughing a clear, high but somehow unsettling laugh. It was…dark and sinister somehow, despite its clear pitch and tone._

_ In jubilation, Silasea said to the dark figure with the…evil laugh, "Think of me."_

_ With the last note of the song fading into the forest, the two entered into a full, romantic embrace. The dark figure softly whispered into her ear, "I promise."_

_ "I know you will keep your word," she said in return. Then, she broke away smiling a wistful, sorrowing smile of ancient sadness. She was just staring off into space at the time._

_ Abruptly, the dark figure's face darkened as he saw something out of the range of this vision. His posture changed and he stood over her protectively, his face serious._

_ Quickly, her face smoothed into an unreadable mask as her face turned to look at the same thing the figure was looking at. She stepped closer to the figure, sheltering in his protection._

_ The view changed abruptly so that he could see who the couple was looking at. It was a group of rather heavily armed dwarves with a look about them that made him know that they intended to attack._

_ Within seconds of the view changing, the dark figure (which could not be a man or an elf but a Vala) wrapped his arms around her very protectively. He was shielding her from the dwarves' view as well as from almost any physical attack now._

_ The dwarves brandished their weapons and acted quite intimidating while challenging the couple, "How dare you invade our land, you stinking Vala? Do you think that you can just barge in here and take our land away?"_

_ As the dwarf said that, the dark figure flinched and shifted his weight slightly. This shift in weight alerted Silasea to his discomfort. She looked up into his flinching face with concern. Her expression softened as she watched him in his obvious mental pain._

_ The dark figure's eyes shifted briefly away from the dwarves to look at the elf-maid's face. As he saw her worry, he stroked her face with his fingertips, comforting her and reassuring her._

_ Unfortunately, the shift in weight also put Silasea directly in the dwarves' line of sight. Their leader exclaimed happily, "Ah! You have some elvish slime with you! All the better! We can ransom her back to her people for more gold and gems! Kindred, we will be rich!"_

_ These comments provoked the Vala. He extraordinarily quickly became infuriated. He said, "Take that back, dwarf!" The dark figure's voice was fair, clear, and cold. It was also dark, deadly, and very, very threatening. Glorfindel immediately recognized it as Morgoth._

_ What he said enraged the dwarves. They attacked. Swiftly, the dark figure pushed Silasea behind him, drew his sword, and prepared to defend her. Thankfully, Morgoth was obviously a very skilled opponent for the dwarves. It was an uneven match. Soon enough, the dwarves were lying on the ground, all either dead or dying._

_ As soon as he had accomplished that rather small feat, he sheathed his elegant sword carefully and walked quickly back to Silasea. He once more wrapped his arms around her, still very protective of her. She melted into his strong arms gratefully and thankfully. His embrace became comforting as well as he realized that she was shaken by the experience. He gently stroked her face with one of his hands with sympathy for her. He said consolingly, "They will never harm you."_

_ The two of them stood there together for a few seconds. She then asked curiously, "What did they mean by saying that you were a Vala?"_

_ "Simply that. I am one of the Valar," he said briefly and frankly._

_ "What is your name?" she asked. Her tone suggested that she had more than one suspicion, all of them different, already about what it was, but she wanted to make sure. It was almost like she had a gut instinct._

_ He sighed heavily, then said hesitantly and ruefully, "Naim Melkor."_

_ Immediately, her eyes widened immensely and she broke free from his gentle embrace, disgusted by who he was. Obviously, that was not who she had thought he was, or rather hoped._

He could see the two of them standing there for a few seconds, then the image faded into the waters of the basin and stone of the cold, hard bottom.

In the time that had elapsed, snow now completely covered the glass ceiling.

"Was that the future or the past?" Glorfindel asked worriedly. If that was the future, this was very bad news indeed.

"The past," Celegorm said angrily and disbelievingly. He quickly motioned to the guards. The guards quickly dragged the protesting Elf Lord back to his cell where they locked him up in the manacles again.

When he was once again attached to the rather short chains, he asked the obviously unsettled Celegorm, "Was that truly Morgoth?"

"Yes," he said worriedly and wistfully. Celegorm quickly exited the cell, obviously unsettled. He was going to investigate what kind of relationship Silasea had been in with the Great Enemy, apparently long ago.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Silasea stood on the quite familiar balcony, tears streaming down her face again. The doors were locked which meant that she was being confined again, probably to keep her from Glorfindel and Maikaglin, no he was Maeglin, from her. In her thoughts, she was not even looking at the waterfall she had been staring at for hours on end.

Suddenly, she felt a hand softly caressing her hair. Then, she felt warm breathe on her cheek as someone whispered in her ear, "_Vana, una yes?"_ (Beautiful, isn't it?) She turned, hoping it was Glorfindel. She gasped, seeing instead of Glorfindel the slightly ominous form of Celegorm. As she saw him, she hit him as hard as she could in the stomach. He grabbed her arms and held them tightly so she could not hit him anymore or escape. He kept her right there until she quite squirming.

Once she was done squirming, he let go of her. Immediately, she hit him solidly in the nose with the heel of her palm. Hastily, she ran for the door. She rattled the doorknob, trying to open the door. In doing this, she turned her back on Celegorm, so she couldn't tell when he recovered. He quickly recovered and grabbed her arms from behind tightly. She finally realized that trying to writhe loose was absolutely futile. When she stood still again, he said to her, "_Una enhi."_ (Do not do that again.)

"_A? Im uva,"_ she said angrily. She was indignant about having her escape attempt interrupted.

"_Im una thanglye. Im na si lye maan."_ (Because I am not going to harm you. I am here to help you.)

"And how do you intend to do that? So far you have only complicated matters," she said unhappily.

"Quite the contrary, I have simplified them greatly. I came to give you my ultimatum. Give me your hand or I will kill Glorfindel," Celegorm said seriously and somewhat sadistically.

"_Ulye uva_!" (You wouldn't)she exclaimed, breaking away from his grasp in disgust and revulsion.

"A! Yes, _im uva_," (Oh, yes I would) he said confidently. He was guaranteeing that he would kill or in some way harm Glorfindel.

"You are not man enough to do that!" she exclaimed into his face.

"Why?" he said furiously, pulling their bodies close together and keeping his hands on her shoulders.

She put her hand on his left side of his chest and said, "You have no heartbeat, dark elf!" She was right. A heart did not beat in his chest, yet there he stood.

Through the mentioning of such a topic, she angered him to the point that his self-control broke. His eyes flashed and he grabbed her shoulder. He used them to fling her back onto the bed, where she fell onto her back.

Before she could recover, he was on her. He used his superior strength to hold her arms down by her head with one hand. His other hand clamped over her mouth as he stared into her eyes, putting her into a trance of sorts after a few seconds. Only when she was completely under his spell did the dark elf release her hands. Her arms fell naturally straight out from her body, only slightly bent. Her eyes stared up at nothing, without the glassiness of the dead.

In quick succession he unbuttoned several of the buttons of her dress. He quickly lost patience with that and just ripped her dress open.

Then, he ran two of his fingers up between her breasts, up her neck, and onto her cheek where they stopped. He slid up until his lips found her face. He quickly moved his lips to hers. As he kissed her, he parted her lips and let his tongue explore the confines of her mouth.

At that point, he quickly slid off of her and pulled his breeches off. Then, he pulled his shirt off and climbed back onto her, kissing her again.

Very soon, his trance wore off its effect, leaving her ready to scream at what he had dared to do. However, her mouth was currently occupied so she could not scream, even though she tasted blood in her mouth from where he had bitten her lip. All she could do was put her hands on his shoulders to try to push him away.

For a second, he pulled away to speak. In that time, she screamed. Her scream could be heard for a rather great distance around. In the stone hallways, the sound would echo and multiply.

Soon after her scream was sounded, several guards burst into the room, thinking someone other than Celegorm was there.

When they made their entrance, he looked up from her, furious at this distraction. She seized this opportunity to push him with all the strength she could muster. Celegorm flew off of the bed and fell on his back on the floor.

He quickly picked himself up and flashed a death glare at the guards. Only now did she look at the guards. All but one of them was looking at Celegorm. The one that was not looking at Celegorm was looking straight at her, one that was not looking at Celegorm was looking straight at her while she scrambled to pull the sheets over her body for modesty. It was Melkor.

He looked like he longed for a similar chance with her, and he seemed furious… at Celegorm. When she locked eyes with him, his eyes softened and pleaded for her not to reveal him. "Come back!" she mouthed to him, pleading with her eyes. Then, his eyes whipped back to Celegorm.

She returned her gaze to the elf that had so wronged her in time to see him wave the guards away. They left, including Melkor, thoroughly embarrassed.

Celegorm angrily walked over to her, his eyes locked on her own, terrified eyes. When he reached her, brought his arm up and slapped her across the face, hard. Then, he grabbed her chin and turned her head so that she had to look at him. Then, he said, "Next time, if you scream, Glorfindel dies." Then, he released her chin. She immediately turned away from him. He continued by saying, "You can never leave here, _ever!"_

By the time she felt she could look, the door slammed, the lock clinked, and the bar slammed into place. Once she couldn't hear them anymore, she started to sob again.

ooooooooo

Much later Silasea was still sobbing, though she was able to sit up on the edge of the bed now. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, still sobbing in despair, to see Melkor seated similarly next to her.

As soon as he saw her face literally a river of tears, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her in to him. To her he softly whispered, "_Nalye unal. Nalye unal_. He cannot hurt you while I am here. I will never let him." He meant every word.

Slowly, she nestled her head into his chest and said amidst her sobs, "I know, Melkor." He was shocked by how much confidence she had in him, and she had not noticed that this was the first time she had ever said his real same. He most definitely knew that fact.

He began to rock her back and forth like a child, simply ecstatic that such a thing could occur.

After several hours, she had cried herself out. When Silasea finally had, she sat up and said to Melkor, "Thank you."


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

Silasea sat on a layer of soft, cool grass in the meadow, staring out at the bright stars. Her knees were bent and her arms were wrapped around her legs. She was not wearing her gown, but just her white satin slip and the cloak Glorfindel had recovered.

In her mind, she was trying to decide what to do. Her choices were few: marry Celegorm so Glorfindel could live, reject Celegorm and watch Glorfindel die, try to escape, or suicide.

Presently, she could find no plausible way to escape. She had made the decision long ago not to kill herself. The final choice was the hardest of all. Could she watch Glorfindel die when she could have stopped it?

Abruptly, she heard footsteps in the hallway of stone. The elf-maiden turned to find Celegorm striding confidently into the meadow. Following him were two elven guards. Between them they held a standing figure, obviously a prisoner. The prisoner's form was slumped and haggard. He had obviously been through a great deal. It was a much abused Glorfindel. As she comprehended that, she knew that the time to choose between them was now.

Celegorm stopped and assumed a position in which he could easily see both her and the dejected Glorfindel. The two guards stopped halfway between her and the beginning of the smooth stone. As she looked at the three figures, Celegorm said, "The decision is yours." She glanced up at him quickly when he said that. When he said the final word, he gestured at the three figures. The guards immediately pushed Glorfindel down to his knees on the spongy surface.

Glorfindel looked up at the obviously pleased form of Celegorm and pleaded, "Free her! I do not care what you do to me! Free her!"

Celegorm turned to look at Silasea and said almost mockingly yet rather sadistically, "He is quite ardent, is he not?"

She turned to look sadly at Glorfindel and said pleadingly yet despairingly, "Please, it is useless."

As she said that, Celegorm smiled still more mockingly and said, "Yes. You know now, don't you? It is useless to resist my power!"

"You can't win her love by making her your prisoner!" the prisoner yelled to his pitiless captor.

"Oh?" Celegorm said egotistically, overconfident in his sexual prowess.

Glorfindel ignored him and looked into Silasea's eyes. He said, "Forgive me." When he said that, tears slid down her cheeks. She stood there gazing down at him for several, painful minutes.

Eventually, Celegorm grew impatient and said menacingly, "You try my patience. Make your choice!" He drew his sword and started to advance on Glorfindel. Soon, he stopped beside Glorfindel and brought his blade up, preparing to cut off his head.

Slowly, Celegorm raised his sword over Glorfindel's head, preparing to sweep it down in a deadly arc. He held it poised in that position for several moments, then started to slash in a downward streak. As he did that, she exclaimed, "_Daro_!"

Celegorm checked his sword's path, but he did not lower his sword. He did take his eyes off of the man he hated and loathed so much to look at her. He asked her, "So you choose me?"

"Yes," she murmured. As she said that, Celegorm lowered his sword and sheathed it gracefully. He was smiling as he signaled for the guards to take Glorfindel away. Immediately, Glorfindel started to struggle, to get at Celegorm, to stop Silasea from making such a drastically terrible mistake.

Celegorm was momentarily distracted by Glorfindel, so he motioned quickly toward Glorfindel. The guards let go of him. Before Glorfindel could launch himself at Celegorm, he slid alarmingly quickly across the grass onto the stone. Iron gates of a cage flew shut behind him, trapping him.

Celegorm paid no attention to him now, but he kept his eyes fixed on Silasea, disbelieving that she truly meant it. Slowly, he walked toward her, as her eyes widened in fright at what he had just done. With every step he took toward her, she backed up a step. She soon backed into the wall of the corridor behind her. She started to slide to the side instead, moving more quickly now. Every step she took in a different direction, he turned his body and stepped toward her new location each time.

Soon enough, she backed up into the corner where the smooth stone met the solid rock of the cliff. Celegorm continued to approach her until he was right in front of her.

When he stood right in front of her, he stopped and placed a couple of his fingertips on her cheek gently. At his ice-cold touch, Silasea's breathe became very rough, showing her fear of him. Carefully, he put his other hand on her neck. Celegorm leaned in further and kissed her. As he kissed her, his tongue slowly entered into her mouth as he forced her lips open. Soon, he moved the hand from her check to wrap around her and press her closer, pushing on the small of her back.

Glorfindel watched in horror and disbelief. Every muscle in his body froze and locked as he watched, face pressed against the bars of the cage. Anger and horror filled his heart, but he was too infuriated to move. His motionless allowed the guards to open the cage and drag him back to his cell.

Once Glorfindel was gone as well as the guards, Celegorm stood back. Immediately, she shrank down to her knees. Celegorm said very roughly, "Stand up!" When she did not comply, he pulled her up while saying, "Get up!"

As he did that, she heard a _thunk_ as a heavy object his Celegorm in the head. He collapsed on top of her, trapping her. Immediately, someone hurled him off of her and flipped her over to her back.

She looked over and sitting by her side was Melkor, his hand outstretched to caress her jawbone. "Do not fear me," he said.

"I must go," she said, trying to sit up.

"You must _not_!" he said, pushing her shoulders back down. "I will kill him if he tries again!"

"Can I get up?"

He glanced down at his hands on either side of her head; then noticed that his face was inches from hers. Quickly, he sat up and allowed her to do the same.

When she was sitting next to him comfortably, she asked, "How did you know where to find me and when to come?"

"I saw Celegorm walking in the hallway with guards bearing Glorfindel behind him. I knew he planned to do something, then. I followed them, but then, when the guards brought Glorfindel away, I looked around to see where they were taking him. I got back just now."

"Did he see you?"

"No," he said reassuringly. "I should go now," he said regretfully as an afterthought.

"Please. At least walk me back to my room," she pleaded, unleashing the force of her bright eyes on him.

"Very well," he said, wanting to please her.

"Thank you."

He walked her back to her room; but at her door, he stopped her and made her look at him by putting a hand on her arm and one on her chin.

Once she was facing him, he dropped one hand and let the other one fall to her hand. He took her hand, and he kissed it gently. Then, he said, "My feelings for you have not changed. They have only intensified."

"I know, but this is hardly the time. I-"

"Please only take into account my feelings and your own. That is all that really matters."

"Very well… I do not know who I love. What an emotion, love. It can describe so many passions, longings, pains, and desires. I love Haldir, Rűmil, and Orophin. I would not be who I am without them. I love Legolas. I love Glorfindel…I love you."

"But you love me less than all of the others, right?" he demanded.

"I don't know…" she said, staring wistfully off at nothing.

"If you ever do know but do not want me, drop this ring from your window," he said, pressing a ring into her hand. "However, if you do want me, put it on and it will make my ring glow. Then, I will know of your love."

"Very well, Melkor," she said sadly. When he heard her tone, he sadly looked down for a few seconds. From there, he walked away in silence.

Quickly, she walked into the room and closed the door, leaning back against it once it was closed in regret. Then, she brought her hand up to her face and opened it, looking at the ring he had given her.

The ring was beautiful. It was made from shining silver and had a single, large, shining diamond set into it. She longed to put it on and see if it fit, but she knew that she could not without giving Melkor the wrong impression. Sadly, she put the ring down on the table and walked away.


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-one**

Glorfindel sat in his cell, thinking of how he might escape and rescue Silasea. He had come up with several ideas, few of them actually worth trying. While he was thinking of a particularly absurd idea, the door swung open to reveal Silasea. She immediately ran to him saying rather quietly, "Glorfindel!" She ran right into his waiting arms without hesitation.

"What have they done to you?" he asked, worried about her safety.

She did not answer for the tremors that wracked her body.

He asked her again, "Have they done anything to you?"

"Yes," she said, collapsing into tears.

"What did he do?" he asked in indignation.

"He put me in a…a…trance, then…tried to…_echantnur_." (make love)

"What!"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't let him kill you!" she said quickly, regretting her previous decision.

"Have they performed the ceremony yet?"

"No. I stole the keys from the guard when I entered. We can escape!" While she said this, Silasea produced the key and unlocked Glorfindel's manacles.

"_Nant echalye ona lyebeth?"_ (Did he make you give your word.)

"No," she said with hope ringing in her voice like a clear, high bell.

"If I know Celegorm and Curufin, they are probably waiting right outside that door, listening."

"_Met celuva henneth_!" (Then let us go through the window!)

"It might work," he said, consideration in his voice.

The bars fell to the floor with a clang soon after. Hopefully, they would think he was just rattling his chains in frustration. The door opened just then and the two brothers ran in. They had apparently heard the conversation within and become suspicious. Celegorm immediately yelled, "No!" Behind him entered Curufin who yelled to the guards, "They are escaping!" Glorfindel quickly pushed his lover through the small opening. Glorfindel quickly hoisted himself and slid through the opening in the wall, just as Celegorm made a grab for him. He tumbled down to a grassy patch that Silasea had just vacated as she rolled out of her fall.

He stood up and found that she had been knocked unconscious by the fall. This was probably because she had been poised to jump out herself before he had pushed her. Glorfindel hurriedly picked her up and made his way away from the compound towards Lothlorien. As he left, he heard Celegorm yelling, "You let her escape!" Celegorm and Curufin immediately sent out warriors to recapture them, but did not find them before Glorfindel and Silasea were out of the 10 mile radius.

oooooooooo

Silasea woke in a small, moonlit clearing. At first, she kept her eyes closed and enjoyed the cool night air in the sound of cicadas in the distance. It was so serene, but she opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was a slender forn sitting right next to her. One of the person's hands was by her head, stroking her hair absentmindedly. It was Glorfindel.

She decided quickly to just lay there on the grass, staring at the starry night sky. The color of her hair was perfectly identical in the starlight and moonlight to the blanket of darkness behind the stars. She watched the sparkling stars and the bright, silvery moon while remembering with striking clarity her father's face, or the ancient trees of Mirkwood, or the feel of the tall mallyrn beneath her hands. At times like these, she sensed that she did not have much time left here on Middle Earth.

"What do you see?" a clear, elven voice asked her. She looked over and saw Glorfindel looking right back at her, curiosity and tenderness in his gaze.

"_Im_ (I) …sense…_yes im uva si kel Endor_." (I sense that I will soon leave Middle Earth forever.)

"We all sense this at some point."

"_Yes nant usi nant_…so …clear." (It has never been…so…clear.)

"Are your visions always clear?"

"Always," she said sadly.

"What have you sensed before this?"

"_Im_…sensed…_im adar firn_ (my father's death)…_Celebrian kel_ (Celebrian's exodus)…_Gil-galad firn_ (Gil-galad's death)…the war with Sauron…the betrayal of Sauron…do not Akallabeth (the downfall of Numenor)…many things."

"Do you sense a peaceful outcome?"

"No."

"What do you sense?" he asked curiously.

"_Im_…sense…how many is it now? …Four? Five? …Seven? Eight? …I've lost track… so many plots…" she trailed off, lost in terrible thoughts.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a smooth-skinned hand on her cheek. "Puzzling through senses and foresights will get you nowhere. Your burden is heavy."

"Do you think I do not know that?"

"For most, it helps to repeat it."

"Perhaps you are right."

"Why do you wear that ring on a necklace?" he asked her, touching the ring lightly.

"It was a gift…" she said, lost in thought. Then, quickly and fluidly, she popped up, smiled, and said, "Met ech yes!" (We made it)

"Yes," he said in answer with much joy in his voice.

"Where are we?"

"About ten miles from the compound. Lothlorien is about ten leagues to the east."

"We had best be going, then," she said, smiling and inclining her head.

Glorfindel quickly sprang up in a similar manner and said, "Onward, then."

They walked for many leagues without saying much. When they were about half way to Lothlorien, they began to discuss what had happened while they walked through the small, young wood of deciduous trees. As they talked, Celegorm and Curufin saw them, and knew of them without either of them knowing of the Two Brothers.

While they eavesdropped on the other two elves, the Two Brothers came up with a plan to get Silasea in particular back. Curufin then spurred his horse towards the two, in concordance with their plan.

As he approached the elf-maid, he bent low in his saddle. He put his arm around her waist as he rode by her and set her behind him on his saddle.

Glorfindel ran after them for some time, but eventually grew too tired to stay apace with them. Silasea on the other hand was struggling desperately to slide out of the saddle to the ground. She was quite successful in her attempts. She slipped out of the saddle to the ground. She ran immediately to the south, in the opposite direction that the Two Brothers had been heading in.

The Two Brothers quickly turned around and started galloping after her in quick secession. She ran swiftly, though. She outpaced the nearly exhausted horses and soon was out of sight of the angered riders. As she ran, she took the necklace off and held the ring in her hand, discarding the rest of the necklace as she ran.

Soon, she stopped to rest and to hide there. She found a gap in the roots that was large enough for her to slip into and hide in. As soon as her body was in place, the roots started to move. They trapped her wrists and ankles exactly as they were before she could wrench them free. She was completely unable to free herself from this grasp.

Within a few minutes, Celegorm and Curufin came riding into her view. As soon as Celegorm saw her, he leapt from his horse and ran straight to her. He was smiling as he called to her saying, "Here is our beautiful escapee!" He stopped by her side and tapped the roots of the tree. The roots moved and released her trapped limbs.

She leapt up and started running. Before she even got to the next tree, a large object hurtled into her back. She fell and the object, or person, fell on top of her. Once she landed on the spongy grass, she figured out that it was Celegorm who was on top of her, trapping her again. He whispered in her ear, "Oh, no you do not."

While he was on her, she quickly used her fingers to get the ring on her finger. She hoped fervently that Melkor would come for her soon.

Once he had had his fill of gloating to her, he let her up, but he kept a firm hand around her wrist.

Quickly, he dragged her, by her wrist, to his standing horse. He quickly exchanged his grasp to her waist and lifted her up into the saddle. Fluidly, he jumped up behind her so that he could keep his arms wrapped around her gently yet firmly.

The Two Brothers brought Silasea back to their compound and held her while they demanded that Thranduil, one of the few father-like figures she had known since her father was dead, give Celegorm her hand.

At the same time, the frustrated brothers once again threatened to kill her lover if she did not marry Celegorm. Their logic was slightly faulty because they no longer had Glorfindel under their thumbs. They were apparently gong to set a trap for Glorfindel as he came back to rescue her once again. No message got anywhere near Mirkwood, and Silasea would not give in once more.

In punishment for trying to leave, Celegorm and Curufin dragged her back to her room. Once there, Curufin held her while Celegorm ripped Silasea's dress down from her.

While the elf-maid continued to fight back, Celegorm retrieved a corset from the closet and put it on her. First, he fastened it in front. He began to lace it far too tightly after that. He tied it far tighter than he should have. She could barely breathe. He then knotted the laces at the middle of her back so that she could not reach them or untie them.

"Thank you, Brother," Celegorm said once the corset was tied.

"You are welcome, Brother," Curufin said, leaving to attend to other matters.

Celegorm went back to the closet and took out a petticoat while she dropped to the floor, gasping for air.

He came back over and slipped the petticoat over her head, pulling it into place.

He again went to the closet. When he came back, he held a white dress with expensive, heavy material. He put this on her as well, tying those laces tightly and knotting them as well.

Now, he just left her there, gasping, on the floor. He wanted her to suffer for trying to leave him.

ooooooooo

Not five minutes later, Melkor sneaked into the room. He saw Silasea gasping on the floor and immediately ran to her crying, "Silasea!"

He quickly unlaced her gown and pulled it off. Next, he pulled the petticoat over her head and threw it away from them. From there, he flipped her over and quickly unlaced the corset to the point that she could breathe easily again.

He let her just lay there, breathing, for awhile. After a couple minutes, she said, "Thank you."

"Please. Have you changed your mind?" he asked, pleading.

"Please do not ask me that. I do not know the answer," she said weakly.

"Then I will not bother you," he said, withdrawing.

Knowing that punishment would come if she was found without the dress on, Silasea retied the corset but very loosely. She slipped the petticoat and dress on, retying the dress also loosely.


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two**

Glorfindel trudged dejectedly back to the compound. He was quite annoyed and angry at Celegorm and Curufin. They were very determined to have Silasea, but so was he. Slowly, the elf forced himself to calm down and think far more clearly.

His main problem was that he needed to get Silasea back. To do this without pursuit, he would probably have to kill Celegorm and Curufin. He could do that, or he could try to get the reason for his existence back and go with her into the West, to Eressea. To do either of these things, he would first have to get back to the compound, and he would have to get in. From there, it was just finding Silasea, maybe disable the two brothers, and get out.

If only they had not traveled quite so far from the compound!

ooooooooo

Silasea was frustrated. She had been recaptured! She was so close to escaping with Glorfindel! Why could Celegorm and Curufin not just leave them alone?

Then, her thoughts changed directions. "Please, Glorfindel! Come for me! Take me away from here! I love you! I know that now! Please, come!" she thought.

As she thought that, the door to her room opened for the first time she had been brought here. In reflection, Silasea noticed that neither Celegorm nor Curufin were as quiet coming in here as Glorfindel. She turned her mind to the sound of footsteps coming nearer and nearer to her, and wondered if it was Celegorm or Curufin because it was only one pair of feet. The footsteps stopped right by her side, and she saw the hem of a pale green robe flutter to a stop in the light breeze. Whoever it was, he was standing right next to her.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Both figures just stood there, staring at the waterfall in silent contemplation of their separate goals or wishes. Silasea contemplated how best to proceed and get to Glorfindel, whereas the person next to her made plans of a different sort. He was planning how to make her give in. Finally, he spoke, "I must congratulate you on your escape. It was quite ingenious," said Celegorm. Silasea did not answer, but she wished their escape had lasted. She knew that he would have the door locked and guards outside, so she was not going to repeat her previous experience. She was at his mercy.

For another long stretch of time, neither of them spoke. Finally, some sound emerged besides the gentle murmur of the water. Few, soft, slow footsteps sounds were produced as Celegorm walked to stand behind her. She could hear the sound of clothing shifting as he moved. Then, she felt a hand on her arm, her left arm. The fingers were slender and smooth. The skin was soft and warm. Silasea got the feeling he was holding something in his other hand.

She felt him take a step closer to her. He was so close that she felt his robes brushing up against her and the warmth of his breathe on her cheek. She felt the warmth of his body radiating outward towards her and in all other directions. It was a pleasant warmth. She noticed a woodland scent about him, like trees and lilacs. Suddenly, she reprimanded herself for thinking such things.

"You know, whenever I heard your voice, I thought, 'Ah! If only I had such a voice at my disposal!'" he said to her softly.

She snorted softly, but she felt him lift his arm, the arm that was not already touching her. She looked down to it slowly. A red rose came into her view, being held gently by the hand he lifted. The sweet scent wafted up to her delicate nose. Unconsciously, her right hand moved up to take hold of the stem.

Slowly, she looked up into Celegorm's face. His skin was a pale color, almost white. His features were well-sculpted and refined, like any elf's. His blue eyes stared down at her, while she stared back into their depths with her deep, green eyes.

ooooooooo

Glorfindel quietly darted from shadow in the unlit corridor of the compound. He tried to remain completely undetected as he moved towards the very same room Silasea had been in before. She would hopefully be in the same place; Celegorm was probably with her even now. The thought of Celegorm coming to _his_ Silasea for the very same reason that he himself had come to her made him furious. At this feeling, he sped up to the highest possible speed he could maintain and finally reached her door, slamming into it before he could stop. Quickly, he picked himself up and drew his slender, long sword of elven make.

The enraged elf swung the door open surprisingly quietly and ran into the moonlit room. And there was absolutely no one there. The room was completely empty and devoid of intelligent life.

In his rage, Glorfindel thrust his slender, razor sharp dagger into the oak table. The strike was so powerful that the point stuck out on the underside of the table, impossible to remove without destroying the table in the process.

Furiously, he ran out of the room in a flash, in search of his one and only love.

ooooooooooooooo

Silently, Melkor slipped through the silent, starlit hallway. He knew he would not be noticed as he ran silently to the room Celegorm had been planning to move Silasea to. With the turn of events, this would be where she would be.

Undoubtedly, Celegorm was with her even now. He would use the failure of Glorfindel as leverage with Silasea. After being so close to escaping, Silasea would not give in. _If_ Glorfindel managed to arrive in time to stop him, it would be extremely surprising. Thus, he felt that he was called upon to help, especially since Silasea still wore _his_ ring.

Finally, the former citizen of Gondolin and betrayer of the Eldar came to the door he wanted. Silently and quickly, he approached the door and swung it open, looking inside before entering.

What he saw chilled his heart. On the balcony stood Celegorm, right behind Silasea. The same gown with the corset underneath still hung over her slender frame, shining in the moonlight against Celegorm's pale green robe blowing in the wind along with her gown. His rival's left hand rested lightly on his love's arm. His other hand held a deeply colored red rose and she had one hand on it as well. She was looking into Celegorm's face.

Slowly, silently, and lividly, Melkor walked straight towards the two elves on the balcony. When he had just exited to the balcony, Celegorm said, "I knew you would come."

With that, he turned menacingly, then stopped short. He was absolutely stunned when he recognized a very old form which Melkor would take in the Elder Days. "W-wh-y are y-y-you here?" he asked stammering in fear and shock.

When she heard the undisguised fear in Celegorm's voice, Silasea turned quickly and, as soon as she saw that it was Melkor, started to run to him with an expression of the uttermost joy and exhilaration.

Quickly, Celegorm darted forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her back. With the gargantuan force of his throw, she fell and lay motionless. The rose was flung on the floor far from her, but the ring still rested on her finger, unharmed.

Melkor drew his sword in the blink of an eye and flourished it elegantly at Celegorm. The other elf quickly responded in kind, not as elegantly or skillfully. At a glance in the superior swordsman's eyes, Celegorm knew that Melkor meant to kill him.

In their hearts, they all knew that this was the last fight that one of them would ever be in, and the prize was the elf-maiden that seemed so important to so many people.

Both combatants assumed a fighting stance, and prepared to duel to the death. As they did so, Celegorm said, "Monsieur…_Heru_ (Lord)," he said after some thought. "Did you think that I would harm her?" He talked very noticeably as though he truly thought he was talking to a superior, which was extremely rare with Celegorm.

"You have already done that, _Moredhel_." (Dark elf) Melkor spoke knowledgeably, condescendingly, and very lividly. When he said that, the subordinate looked back at Silasea with a worried look on his face. When he did that, Melkor attacked.

The two assailants dueled driving each other back and forth through the starlit room. After awhile, the door flew open; it slammed into the wall with the force of the blow it had taken.

Through the newly open doorway ran an elf with golden hair and light blue eyes at top speed. His sword was drawn. As soon as he reached the swordfight, he skidded to a stop and joined, eager to rid himself of his rivals.

This duel to the death for Silasea was long and hard for all combatants. Eventually, Celegorm tripped as he blocked the strike of another combatant. As he tripped, Glorfindel took the opportunity to stab him in the heart with his self-made, beautiful, graceful sword from the forge of Gondolin. The elf with the bitter heart was thrown down from the sword to the floor, dead.

In this time, Melkor slipped out of the room, sparing a glance for Silasea. She looked right back into his eyes, apologizing with her gaze.

She turned back just as Glorfindel looked up at her. She smiled to him and said, "Im golodh yes na le. I could not bear it if _Celegorm_ had won. I knew it would be you!" With that, he reached over to the rose and threw it out off the balcony, where it landed on the rocks and was swept into the stream.

"Where did the other go?" Glorfindel asked urgently, looking carefully, though fruitlessly, around the room.

"He snuck out when you killed Celegorm," Silasea said simply.

Glorfindel stroked her hair lovingly and said, "Let us go over the sea to the West. All of the Laquendi are leaving this world, and we had best go, too. The Valar might let me go to the Blessed Realm, and I am absolutely sure that they will let you through."

"Then let us depart," he said, watching her looking at Celegorm's corpse. He led her to the horses he had prepared. Their escape was nearly complete.


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-three**

When Glorfindel reached the gate with Silasea in his arms, he set her down gently on a pile of fallen leaves and began saddling the two horses he had left tied to the gate.

Soon enough, she woke, rolling her head from side to side as she began to wake. Even that small and insignificant of a sound attracted Glorfindel's attention. He immediately set down the saddle he had been lifting and ran over to her. Quickly, he knelt down by her side and cupped her face in his hand.

Within seconds, she woke. Tenderly, she smiled at him. Her eyes were filled with love.

Quietly, he said, "Silasea, Silasea. Silasea, my love." At the sound of his voice, she sensed almost an electric feel in the air.

Tenderly, she looked into his eyes and said, "_Glorfindel, met kela Mithlondo_."

"I prepared horses so we could leave immediately," he said, gesturing to the horses without breaking eye-contact with her.

"Then let's depart," she said, springing up to walk toward the horses. Quickly, he followed her and mounted his horse, a black horse.

When he turned to look at her, she had already mounted her white horse. With that glance, they both spurred their horses to the northwest, toward the Grey Havens.

oooooooooooooo

At the end of their day of travelling, Silasea was shivering in her saddle. She was not cold, far from it in fact. She was merely tired.

"_Im una ueste_," (I am so tired,) she whispered, staring off aimlessly.

"Come with me, Silasea. You must rest," Glorfindel said tenderly, holding out his strong, slender hand to her.

Carefully, she placed her far more fragile fingers in his hand. His hands were just as cold as ever.

Glorfindel led her gently to a cave in the middle of the woods. In that cave, they, or more specifically Glorfindel, made camp.

"I know that you have heard the stories of Gondolin's fall, about me. I cannot say they are all true, but many of them are," he said. As he said that, he handed her a bag with some food in it.

"Nothing will harm you tonight. Sleep deep, sleep well, my love. I will see you in the morning," he said, stroking her hair.

With that, he gently laid her down on the floor of the cave.

oooooooooooooo

The following morning, Glorfindel woke Silasea by touching her shoulder lightly. He was kneeling next to her, wearing only his breeches. He looked down at the elf-maid, head tilted, as he smiled.

He bent and softly kissed her. His hands stroked her skin as he whispered calming words to her. In short, he seduced her.

Finally, they were both exhausted. Silasea fell asleep with her head resting lightly on Glorfindel's chest.

That night, they continued to travel.

ooooooooooooooo

Glorfindel and Silasea rode slowly through the woods near Mithlond, both enjoying each other's company. They had been apart for many days, and they had both lived in the Elder Days. They chatted about the events since the Elder Days. Their ship, one of the last to depart these shores, would leave in four days.

Several days ago, roughly seven, they had arrived in Mithlond. Since then, they had enjoyed each other's company immensely. They had met in trees as they had described to each other before, with other people. She had missed him and their many meetings in the meadow of the complex. They would never again meet there when the air turned chilly and the snow blanketed the ground as the clouds blanketed the sky.

Yet both of them knew that there would be no meetings in the mallyrn of Lothlorien in the spring, when the grass was carpeted with golden leaves, or in the winter, when the little elanor and the beautiful niphredil bloomed, for this relationship.

Thinking of that, she could not help but think of the places where she and Glorfindel had met in Gondolin. The first was in fact the place where they had met. She had been reading gin a tree that seemed contoured for her dimensions so she could comfortably sit. They had met there often since then.

The second place was in a stand of trees. One of those trees in particular they had met on, even in the rain. There was a large, flat part of a trunk high up in the trees that they had come to very much. That place in particular was where she had gone, and where he had found her, and comforted her, in much the same way he often comforted her now, although not in the rain that often. Glorfindel had shielded her from the rain with his cloak while he comforted and consoled her. He had not even taken his armour off at that point. He had just come to her immediately, despite the pouring rain.

ooooooooooooo

Before they came along that path, a dark figure had been waiting for them, hidden on his horse by the trees and foliage. He soon lost his patience and began to ride along the path a stone's throw into the forest. He was searching for them.

oooooooooooooooo

As the two rode along, a dark figure rode up through the shadows on a dead black horse, darker even than Glorfindel's, and completely silent. He listened to their quiet conversation while taking up a specific position. Then, he charged.

The two elves turned as they heard the clapping of the horse's hooves on the grass. They saw a dark, cloaked figure bearing down on them with a drawn sword in his hand. The blade of the sword was black. He was mounted on a horse with madness in its eyes.

The figure turned his horse towards Glorfindel and galloped toward him, poised to attack. As soon as Glorfindel saw that, he drew his own sword and prepared for the attack.

A series of first blows were struck in a flurry of motion, which Glorfindel defended against with ease. The battle continued on likewise for some time, until the figure struck Glorfindel from his saddle, a lucky blow. He fell from his horse, then quickly stood up and did the same to the figure, not a lucky blow.

The figure quickly recovered and the battle continued much as it had on the horses, neither combatant gaining the upper hand.


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

After, some time, they noticed that Silasea was gone. She had ridden, more like galloped, back to Mithlond to get her sword. Once again, she had left it back in her room. This did not stop the two fighters, however. They kept fighting regardless, intending to end this where they stood.

After more than ten minutes, the figure dealt such a blow to Glorfindel that he stumbled, at which point the figure's sword came in and cut into his arm, wounding his considerably badly. Glorfindel staggered and fell to his knees. The figure came in and placed his sword at Glorfindel's throat.

The figure stood poised over Glorfindel, ready to make the final blow, when Glorfindel said, "_Pel. Gurth im! Silasea pela uvale_!" (Go on! Kill me! Silasea will escape!)

The figure answered, "I want you to know who is killing you so you will understand that your Princess will not escape." After he finished saying that, he pulled back the hood of his cloak to show first an iron crown, then a pale, handsome face with dark, cold eyes that few could look at for long undaunted.

As he looked on the handsome, cold face it changed before his eyes. The skin became distorted and deformed. It looked like a death's head.

As Glorfindel saw that, he lunged forward with a wild, desperate cry. Morgoth easily moved out of the way and Glorfindel pitched forward. Before he hit the ground, Morgoth brought the hilt of his sword down on the elf's head. When the elf hit the ground, he was unconscious.

Morgoth's face changed quickly from the death's head to the smooth, handsome face from before. He loaded Glorfindel onto his horse and rode to Mithlond.

As he approached the gates, they opened. As they opened outward, they revealed such a vision: the elven Princess Silasea with a slender, shining sword in her hands. She was mounted on her glistening, white steed.

As she saw him, she rode forward. Soon after she noticed Glorfindel and brought her horse to a halt just within speaking distance.

Once she had stopped, Morgoth said, "Am I so repulsive? Do you really want him dead?" As he said the last word, he lowered his sword to Glorfindel's neck, ready to slice it open.

"Creature of darkness, I pity you, but I will never love you." As she said that, Morgoth's sword wavered and he looked at her with pain in his eyes, or grief.

"You and I are finished!" she said, trying to be finally free.

"No! You and I? Finished? How can you even begin to understand the countless years I spent searching for you? You have been my only care, my only desire for thousands of years! I have endured anguish, loss, pain, and grief- all for you! I have gone through hopelessness and despair countless times to find you! You may have been gone, but you will always be _mine_! You and I will never _ever_ be finished! Never! You and I will be together forever!"

He drew something out of his cloak pocket as he ranted on. It was a small vial with a black liquid inside it. The vial was very similar to the small bottle of 'medicine' he had forced down her throat before.

Morgoth uncorked the vial and prepared to pour it down Glorfindel's throat. As he did this, he said with anger still colouring his voice, "This poison kills slowly and painfully. I carry the only antidote in existence. Give me your word that you will be mine in _every_ way, body and mind, and I will give it to him. Refuse and you will watch him die over the next day or two." As he said that, he moved his hand down, about to pour it down Glorfindel's throat.

"I cannot," she said, and, in one fluid motion, she drew her bow, strung it, and fired at Morgoth. Her aim was true. The arrow shattered the vial, but not after he poured the contents down the unconscious elf's throat. The glass shards shattered harmlessly onto Morgoth's cloak. The Great Enemy quickly redrew his sword, but Silasea redrew her bow and fired again, knocking the sword from his hand.

Once she had accomplished that, Silasea galloped forward at the surprised Morgoth, drawing her sword at the same time. He was able to grasp and raise Glorfindel's sword in time to fend off her skilful blows. Unfortunately, they were roughly equal in skill so the opponents could not gain the upper hand for some time. Both swords appeared to dance back and forth intricately.

Soon, Morgoth fell from his horse. As he did that, he noticed that Glorfindel was no longer there. She quickly leapt from her horse. Morgoth, however, recovered quickly from his onslaught and was not overtaken.

Glorfindel soon came into her field of vision as he launched himself at Morgoth with a dagger. The Vala used Glorfindel's own momentum to hit him against the wall where he slumped to the ground, quite obviously unconscious. Firmly, he kicked Glorfindel, breaking a rib with an audible crack.

Morgoth used the distraction to gain the upper hand against the skilful elf-maid. He knocked her sword from her hand. It landed over ten feet away, farther away than she could get to it. He quickly grasped her wrists and pressed them firmly against the wall above her head. He pressed his strong torso to her to prevent escape and brought his face to inches away from her own, pale features. "My power over you is growing. Open up your mind and let me return to you."

"I gave you my mind blindly. It shall not happen again." As she spoke, he traced the lines of her face with the tips of his fingers. He gently traced the edge of her cheek from her cheekbone to her chin. From there, he slid his fingers around her lips to her nose. Once there, he followed the outer curve of her nose up between her slanting eyebrows and back down the other side of her face, smoothing hair away from her face at the same time.

Once he had completed that circuit, his hand paused, hovering between their pale faces. Slowly and smoothly, his hand came down until it was level with her waist. It then gently encircled her waist and pulled her closer.

Once his hand was in place, the Vala leaned in and kissed her long and quite passionately. After a time, he slid his lips down to her collar bone and neck, allowing her to breathe. She turned her head away as soon as her lips were free, hiding her face in her midnight-black hair.

When he felt her muscles move and her hair shift, he took his hand from around her waist. Using his recently freed hand, he turned her head so that he could kiss her again.

Softly, he slid his hand down from her cheek to her neck. Smoothly, his soft hand slid around to the back of her neck and pressed against it to get her closer still. Slowly, he worked his hand up to the back of her head and twined his fingers cruelly in her dark hair. As he did this, he pressed himself into her even more firmly.

Softly, he whispered against her lips, "Don't leave me, my Princess, my love."

In a lapse of judgment, he let go of her wrists and moved his hand gently to her cheek. His fingertips stroked her hair.

"You monster!" she said, moving her hands to his chest to shove as hard as she could now that her wrists were freed from his clutches. He barely even noticed because he had so much adrenaline in his system, and because he was so strong. He pulled her tighter to him, very nearly crushing her.

After some time, he broke away, breathing hard. The Great Enemy caught his breath while catching her wrists so that he held one wrist in each hand, and sighed. He took her wrists away from the wall. He quickly tied them tightly together in front of her. As soon as he had accomplished that, he picked her up and put her on his horse.

She did not run because she knew that he would pursue her no matter where she went, and because she wanted to be there for Glorfindel when he died. Her plan at this point was to try to convince him not to kill Glorfindel (like that was going to happen). If (when) he killed Glorfindel, she would try to flee to Eressea. Either he would not dare to follow, or he would follow and he would get caught. She would NOT give in. She was a Noldoran Princess. Strength was in her blood.

He quickly went over to Glorfindel. He bent down and dragged him over to Silasea's horse. He loaded the elf onto her well-trained horse and tied a rope to the animal's bridle. Quickly, he returned to his horse and mounted behind her. The Vala took the reins and spurred the horses off into the forest.

As the trees flew by in her vision, Morgoth whispered in her ear, "You need not give in blindly. _Le golodh maan im na si_." (You know who I am now.) He gently slid his fingertips across her cheek.

"The shadows of the past would ever haunt me for such a decision."

Gently, he stroked her cheek, then he ran his fingertip around her ear. He went over the pointed tip twice, then brought his shapely lips to her ear. He kissed her ear once before whispering with much pleading in his voice, "Please."

She sighed and said, "I am truly sorry, Melkor, but no."

"You sound irresolute. Are you sure you are making the right choice?" She laid her head back against his chest and cried. She was beyond irresolute. She was torn.

He could not stand to see her unhappy, so he put his hand at the side of her head and turned her head to the side. He pressed her face into his chest. Her response was an increase in the strength and volume of her sobs. From that, he knew that further contact would not help her internal dilemma. He had to be content with what he could get for the time.

For a time, there was no sound except the wind of their passage, the thunderous clap of the horse's shod hooves, and her sobs. After a somewhat greater stretch of time, he felt a great urge to comfort her. Despite that, he could do very little. She soon slipped into her strange, elven dreams of her own accord. Her head lolled against his chest.

He reached up with one hand and smoothed her hair away from her face before resting his hand softly and very protectively around her neck. Once he was sure he would not disturb her, he whispered to her in his velvety, smooth voice that flowed like honey, "_Estel nant tul, imo mel_." (Hope has come, my love.)


	26. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-five**

Much later, she woke to the sound of someone thrashing back and forth near her. She was leaning against a tree of great girth and her hands were tied above her to a substantial-looking branch. The thrashing sound came from a figure under a tree near her. Upon further examination, she found that it was Glorfindel.

Looking around further, she found Morgoth leaning casually against a tree, facing both her and Glorfindel. He was looking at Glorfindel, indifferent to the pain the elf was experiencing. As she carefully watched his expression, he turned to look at her, and then smiled as he saw her looking back. He rose and walked over to her. He carefully bent down and put his hand on her cheek saying, "There is still time to change your mind."

"For his sake, I must say no."

"His time is almost spent. I bandaged his wound and treated the broken rib, but that will make little difference, except to lessen the pain."

"I thank you for that, but my resolve is steadfast. You should remember that... Farotur." She had called him Farotur when he had pursued her into Fangorn forest in the Elder Days. For a time, she had trusted him until she found that he was actually Morgoth.

"Is there no way for me to win you?" he asked, putting his other hand on her cheek.

"As you well know, there is not."

"He is close to death. I would estimate he only has around five hours left. If he does not get the antidote within about four hours."

"The point of no return?"

"Indeed."

"Please, reconsider. Don't kill him."

"Only if you give me your word."

"I cannot."

"Get comfortable. We'll be here awhile," he said. Once he finished saying that, he rose and returned to the place he had been before.

"If you think that what you have done is right, then you're a fool! You monster!" she said to him, spitting out the words.

"Is it so monstrous that I love you and wish to never be parted from you again?" he said eloquently.

"No, but threatening to kill someone to achieve that goal is," she said, disgusted.

ooooooooooooooooo

Over the next hour, Glorfindel thrashed and moaned in agony. The elf-maid watched him suffer with pain written into her face deeply. After watching patiently for that long, the elf-maid fell into a deep, unnatural slumber. During her unnaturally deep sleep, the Vala came over to her and cut the bond tying her to the branch of the oak. He softly lowered her still-bound arms to her lap.

As soon as her arms were lowered, her breathing became regulated and even. Quickly, he cut the other bond holding her wrists together and tore the ropes away from her wrists, thinking that she should never be bound.

Once her hands were free, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and studied her calm features. As he looked down at her, he said rather quietly with deeply felt emotions, "How could I ever not love you? Your emerald eyes? Your midnight hair? The sympathy that inspired me?"

His head quickly snapped up as he remembered something. He quickly carried Glorfindel off to a new location near a river. Once he had accomplished that, he shed his heavy cloak and set down his heavy, iron crown that held all of his carefully hoarded power. He now wore just leggings, boots, and a tunic, all black. He quickly returned to Silasea.

He gazed down upon her for some time, then gently picked her up and brought her away from the hard tree roots to a clear river about twenty feet across with trees right up on the banks. One of these trees had roots that extended right out several feet into the river before going underneath the surface. The roots would clearly support several hundred pounds in weight.

He carefully sat on these roots with his feet resting just above the waterline and his back resting against the great trunk of the large tree. He laid her down on his lap with her torso leaning against his well-muscled chest and her head resting against his neck. He laid her legs out in front of her. He gently placed her feet in the water where they floated freely, drifting back and forth (she had lost her slippers some time ago). Gently, he set one of her arms on his shoulder and one of her hands lay in her lap. He kept her there as she slept, singing ancient songs of love and loss.


End file.
